Morning After
by LaraRae
Summary: AU fic. My take on what would have happened had Sandy met Ryan sooner. It's different, promise. Action, drama, angst and an eleven year old Ryan, what more is there to ask for? Chapter nine is up.
1. One

**The Morning After**

A/N: Hey guys! I'm back... sort of. I'm finally settled in my new place, but my internet access is somewhat limited, however I will try and make at least one post a week. Anyways, I realise that this story line is, well, overdone... and I enjoy pretty much every different take on it out there, so I thought I could take a shot at it... please don't be mad, and as always, please read and review.

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I affiliated, with anything O.C.- related. So don't sue me, because... well... I have nothing you want... Lyrics belong to the song "Say Yes" (Elliot Smith)

Chapter One

_**It's always been wait and see**_

_**A happy day, and then you pay.**_

Sandy Cohen pulled his beamer up to the curb in front of the small rundown house, glancing beside him at his passenger.

"Thanks" the kid muttered, not meeting Sandy's eye or even glancing in Sandy's direction.

Sandy studied the boy silently for a moment, then changed his gaze to the small house the boy belonged to. It was one of the nicer ones on the street, which really didn't say much. It's main feature was a screen door and fresh aluminum siding. Someone had tended to the landscaping by trimming the lawn and planting a small garden against the house wall.

The whole house was probably the size of his own poolhouse. Or Kirsten's poolhouse rather, since it had been her father that had purchased the property. Caleb Nichol. Sandy felt his face fall in to a deep frown just thinking the man's name.

"Is that your mom's car?" Sandy asked the boy, nodding to the beat up looking convertable in the dirveway.

"Yea" the boy replied, fingering the door handle. His escape.

"You know I have to speak with her, right?"

The only answer to this comment was the boy scrambling out of the car, in a rush to get it over with. Sandy followed suit, noticing the boys shoulders drop even lower the closer they came to the house.

"Arturo, is that you?" a voice demanded, obviously having heard the front door slam closed.

"Yea, Ma. It's me."

Footsteps echoed through the hall and a woman entered the hallyway, drying her hands on the apron attatched at her waist. She let out a surprised "Oh" as she saw it was not just Arturo.

"You must be Eva, I'm Sandy Cohen, Arturo's public defender" Sandy offered the kind looking woman his hand with a smile.

"Yes, I am. Thank you for... helping Arturo. I don't understand why he would..." she trailed off, shaking her head. As though suddenly possessed, the woman straightened and lightly smacked her son up the back of the head, "You are grounded until you're twenty, you understand that Arturo? No more alcohal, no more drugs, no more shoplifting" she said pointedly, "And no more Trey. That boy is trouble"

"Ma, you can't -" Arturo began to reply. The furious look on Eva's face stopped him midsentence.

"In the kitchen, now. Get some coffee for Mr. Cohen" Eva scolded her son, offering a smile to Sandy.

Sandy smiled back, "Kids"

"Kids these days" Eva replied, raising her eyebrows, "I don't remember ever talking back to my parents" she shook her head.

Sandy grinned, this woman reminded him somewhat of his own mother, though he wasn't exactly sure why. "I have one a few years younger than Arturo"

"How old is he?" Eva asked, directing Sandy to the kitchen where Arturo stood, arms crossed, against the counter waiting for the coffemaker to finish.

"Eleven."

Eva snorted, "In a couple years you'll be wishing for eleven" she nodded for Sandy to grab a seat at the table while she bustled around the kitchen gathering some things up. Sandy placed his briefcase on the table in front of him, and across the table he saw Arturo's eyes studying the case.

Sandy pulled out Arturo's newly started file. It was still thin, meaning he still had hope of a future. Mediocre grades and attendance, nothing spectacular, but still just a kid. A kid who had decided to try and lift a couple bottles of liquor with a friend, only to procede to drink it in a public place. The public school basketball court. It hadn't taken long for them to be found and taken in.

"Arturo's not usually a trouble maker" Eva stated, setting a cup of coffe down in front of Sandy and taking a seat herself. Arturo seemed to take this as an open invitation to sit down as well, body tense and waiting for the lecture.

"He seems like a decent kid" Sandy put in.

"Sometimes. But no matter how good it won't get him out of being grounded until he's twenty"

"Ma" Arturo groaned from beside her, "It was just -"

"Some stolen alcohal. In public. On a playground no less, Arturo. What kind of example do you think that sets for the little kids in this neighbourhood? You just always have to listen to Trey -"

"If you're so convinced it was all Trey's fault, why don't you lecture him instead of me?" Arturo shot back angrily.

Eva tensed, surprised for a moment, "Trey is not my concern, he has his own parents to lecture him -"

Arturo snorted, "You know better, Ma"

Sandy watched the short exchange intensely, trying to figure out whether Eva was embarassed or angry when she snapped back at her son that 'enough was enough'.

" As you know, the store has formally dropped the charges, so it shouldn't reflect on his record"

Eva glanced at her son who turned a deep shade of crimson. "There better not ever be anything on that record again" she warned.

"I know" Arturo sighed slinking, if possible, further in to his chair.

"Sit up" Eva noticed.

Sandy grinned, thinking of Seth who was only a few years younger than Arturo. He was probably just getting home from school right now and ordering Rosa to make him more peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

"Ma!" a girl's voice yelled from the front hall.

Eva sighed, standing up from the table, " Theresa don't yell" she scolded her daughter as she entered the small kitchen.

"Ma, do we have any ice?" Theresa ignored the scolding.

"Theresa, comapny"

"Yea, yea. Arturo's lawyer. Big whoop, I need some ice"

"What for" Eva demanded.

"Ryan" Theresa replied, mother and daughter sharing a look. Eva moved towards the refrigerator and opened the freezer section, handing Theresa a tray of ice cubes.

"You alright, man?" Arturo ask, standing up from the table. Sandy's attention was drawn to the movement, and it was only then he noticed a small figure standing in the shadows of the hallway.

The person to whom Arturo was addressing. Ryan, he presumed. But what were they going to do with ice?

"Fine" a quiet voice answered, perfectly calm.

Arturo moved closer to the doorway and grimaced, "you look like -"

"Arturo!" Eva snapped, "language"

"I didn't even say -"

"You were going to. Ryan, baby, come in here and sit down" Eva gestured.

The shadow moved and a young boy emerged from the hall way, sporting a swollen and broken lip, bruised cheekbone, a black eye and all the tell tale signs of a bloody nose.

"Oh..." Eva muttered something quickly in Spanish, which Sandy was sure were of the nature Arturo had been ready to say earlier.

Theresa handed the boy ice cubes wrapped in a tea towel, he took it gingerly, eyeing Sandy carefully.

Sandy, still taking in the injuries to Ryan's face, broke the silence. "What happened to you"

Ryan shifted his blue eyes to meet this strange man's. The man's eyes were kid, his face were kind. But he was still a stanger. And in those clothes, with that leather briefcase, he was a fish out of water here. That, to Ryan, was enough of a reason not to trust him.

"I fell off my bike" he replied evenly, sure to continue meeting the man's eyes for a full three seconds afterwards.

Sandy didn't believe it for a second. Falls of bikes, just like falls from skateboards, left scrapes and torn clothes. He knew that from Seth who was currently experimenting on a skateboard of his own. Ryan had no scrapes or torn clothes. Sandy had seen kids like this locked in juvenile hall. He'd seen bruises like this on those kids who had the luck of being the new kid.

Ryan's injuries came from a fist. But his eyes shared nothing. No hint as to who had done it.

"How's Trey?" Arturo asked the boy.

Ryan, holding the tea towel to the side of his face, shrugged. "Fine I guess. He never came home after... after you guys" he shrugged again.

"He got out, just like me. I saw him Ryan. I swear"

"It's fine. He probably just doesn't want to come home right now."

Arturo nodded, glancing at his mother, "I know the feeling. Avoidance at all cost. But mine _drove_ me here"

Ryan glanced back at Sandy whio was still sitting at the table.

"Well, I just wanted to touch base with you Eva, thank you for the coffee" Sandy began to pack up his files.

"That your car out front?" Ryan asked, surprising him.

"Yes"

Ryan nodded, "I didn't think you made a lot of money as a public defender"

Sandy grinned, "I don't. It's my wife's"

"What's she do?"

"Something in building... she deals with contractors and the architechts and such.."

"Ryan wants to be an architect" Theresa slipped out.

Ryan shot a glare at her.

"You do?" Sandy asked, amazed. Seth wasn't interested in anything but his skateboard and videogames right now. Well, and his comic books.

"I did" Ryan corrected, "Until I realised that in Chino, dreams like that don't come true"

Sandy felt something inside of him deflate. What was a young kid like this telling himself that for?

"Don't believe that trash your brother tells you" Eva told him, interrupting the stunned silence.

In response, Ryan handed off the ice to Theresa, "I should go find Trey, let him know not to come home for awhile..." he trailed off. With one last look and no last words, Ryan left the house.

Sandy stood up, his belongings now collected and in place inside his expensive leather briefcase, "I should get going too, my wife's expecting me and I still have an hour's drive or so."

Eva nodded, "Thank you for bring Arturo home"

Sandy smiled and offered his hand to Eva, "No problem. He's a good kid, and just that, a kid"

Eva let go of his hand and Sandy nodded to Arturo, "I hope we never meet again" he grinned.

Arturo smile, "Thanks. For everything" he dropped his eyes to study his shoes again.

From outside there was an angry shout, dropping the kitchen in to silence once again.

"... stupid little brat. Get in the goddamned house!"

"Mom" Theresa whispered.

"I know. I'll go" Eva answered, bustling out of the kitchen. Arturo and Theresa shared a look then followed, leaving Sandy to trail after them.

When Sandy finally stepped out in to the dim sunshine he noticed a few things. Number one, other neighbours had the same idea and were emerging from their respective houses at the same time. Number two, there were three people in front of Eva's house. Ryan, a man, and a woman. Number three, the man was holding Ryan by his shirt and drawing back his arm.

The fourth thing Sandy recognized was that he had dropped his expensive leather case in the dirt and darted across the front lawn, throwing himself between the man and Ryan.

The man smelled like alcohol, and behind him he could hear Ryan breathing heavily.

For a moment, no one said anything.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the man demanded of Sandy.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Sandy exclaimed, "It looked to me like you were going to hit Ryan"

The man snorted, stumbling slightly, "I can punish my kid if I want to"

"You're his father?" Sandy asked, incrediously.

"Close enough" the man sneered drunkenly, pushing Sandy away.

"Look. Go sleep it off buddy, before I call the cops and child services on you"

"Hey, get your nose outtah our business" the woman exclaimed, coming closer to the arguing pair now.

Sandy glanced at the woman, noticing her red eyes, pasty skin and horribly done makeup. Sandy felt that same thing inside of him deflate once more, the second time today. Both times pertaining to Ryan. How could a kid have parents like this? Parents that beat him and didn't care. Parents that obviously had an issue with alcohol, and who knows what else.

Sandy took a step back from the man, not particularly wanting to set the man off. He turned to Ryan, who stood behind him now, cheeks flushed with either anger or embarassment, or maybe both.

"You okay?" Sandy asked.

Ryan nodded, sticking out his chin defiantly. "You didn't have to do anything you know. I was fine on my own"

Sandy swallowed. "You call the injuries you already sustained okay? Let me tell you something Ryan. This?" he gestured to Ryan's face, "Is not okay. No one should be hurting you like this"

"I fell off my bike" Ryan insisted, "You've got this all wrong"

"That's ridiculous. I know what it looks like to fall off a bike. My eleven year old son is experimenting with a skateboard right now and refuses to wear the pads"

Ryan stood silent for a moment, then looked up at Sandy. His eyes widened and he suddenly lunged at him.

Sandy was so surprised at Ryan's actions he didn't move, but he did turn around just as Ryan flew fast him and in to the man, who had been ready to take a swing at Sandy himself.

The momentum of Ryan forced the man to the ground, Ryan landing on top but being pushed off roughly. Sandy helped him up in time to turn around to the man standing up.

"Greg, lets just go" the woman said suddenly.

Greg, Sandy assumed, had either not heard or not listened, because again he made a move. This time at Ryan again. Sandy interjected himself again, pushing Ryan behind him like he would have for his own son. For any child. Only, instead of waiting for Greg to throw a punch in his direction this time, Sandy thrust his own fist this time.

It met with Greg's nose and cause the lumbering man to stumble backwards, tripping over something in the lawn he fell backward, hitting his head on the small cement pathway.

Greg didn't regain consciousness until after the police arrived.

Sandy had long since called Kirsten and explained he would be late, though he had decided to wait until later to let her know what the reason was. The police had interviewed all that had been there, and Sandy had even recognized one of the responding officers from his work. Officer Symington, Rae, had been the first to come over and speak with Sandy to get the details.

Shortly after she had moved on to speak with Ryan and his mother who stormed off shortly after without Greg and Ryan. It was after that Rae leaned down to uncuff Greg from where he lay ranting on the grass.

"What's going on?" Sandy asked, a desperate tone to his voice.

Rae bit her lip, "Neither the mother or son will talk about where the injuries came from, and although we all have a strong suspicion, without a testimony or statement there's nothing we can do" she told him, helplessly.

"But.. what about Ryan? He can't stay with them! They'll just do it again"

"I know" Rae sighed, "We get a call for a domestic every so often to this place. Dawn always drops the charges and makes up some story about walking in to a door or falling down some stairs"

"He can't go back there. A kid doesn't deserve that. Ryan is Seth's age... I just.. how could anyone...?"

"Well, if it helps, Ryan's not going back there. Not tonight at least anyways."

"Where else is he going to go?" Sandy asked, confused.

"Child Services. Dawn refuses to claim responsibility and care for him right now."

"That's..."

"If it helps, chances are she'll be down at the station looking for her baby as soon as she sobres up"

"No" Sandy shook his head, "That's not better. That's unacceptable. A mother can't just... abandon her child like that. He's her kid... her flesh and blood..."

Rae patted him lightly on the shoulder, "I know Sandy, but sometimes... a lot of times... the families from around here aren't exactly perfect..."

"They don't have to be perfect!" Sandy exploded, "They just have to be a family!"

"Listen, Sandy. I know you're upset, but at least Ryan will have a safe and secure week end in one of the region's group homes. And even if Dawn decides to sign him over to the state, or the state investigates and he's taken away, he has a good chance for placement. He's still young."

Sandy shook his head silently, eyes searching out the young boy. Ryan was sitting on Eva's front step, arms folded around his legs. He was watching everything that was going on with a casual look on his face, but it was the boy's eyes that gave him away.

They were sad. Sad and wise. They broke Sandy's heart. "Let me talk to his mother" Sandy said to Rae, "Before you take him. Maybe I can... talk some sense in to her"

Rae sighed, "I shouldn't let you -"

"But you will, because we're friends" Sandy smiled, "I'll just be a couple minutes, I promise" he told her, turning his back on her and heading towards the front door of the house next door which Dawn had disappeared in to.

Okay guys, that's it for now. Sorry for any typos, this keyboard is different from the one I'm used to... and I'm half asleep. Anyways, read and review please!


	2. Two

**Morning After**

Chapter Two

Sandy walked briskly across the lawn, crispy and brown from the sun. As opposed to Eva's house next door, this house was quite the opposite. Almost no effort had been made to keep either the garden or the house itself up. Cracks lined the pavement leading to the front door which Sandy hesitated in front of.

Finally, drawing a breath, he knocked firmly on the cheap wooden door, careful not to get slivers in his hand. It was only a moment before it swung inwards, revealing a frazzled and drunk looking woman. Dawn he remembered, somewhat sorry he hadn't thought to get a last name.

"Whaddya want?" she demanded, words coming out in one big slur.

Sandy noticed she held a glass in her hand containing what he assumed was vodka. Drinker's choice for a less-alcoholic breath.

"Dawn?" Sandy asked, stupidly.

"Yeah, who the hell're you?" she lurched forward for a moment.

"Sandy Cohen, I'm a public defender -"

"You punched Greg" she stated, straightening her posture and gripping the door tighter.

Sandy faltered, "Well, yes but-"

"Fuck you"

"I didn't come here for a fight Dawn, I came here about your son."

"Trey?"

"Ryan" Sandy corrected.

Dawn snorted, "Far as I'm concerned, I only got one kid now, so why don't you take your nose an' shove it elsewheres"

"Look, Dawn. I don't think that Ryan is at fault for any of what happened outside -"

She snorted, "You don't know nothin'. That... kid... is trouble. He's too quiet... too much like Trey... like his father, I see it in his eyes and I don't want it. Don't want him."

"You're just going to give him up? Just like that? You're his mother damnit!" he finally exclaimed.

She stared at him for a moment, coldly, then took another sip of her drink. "I don't want him. The way he sneaks around, the way he looks at me, at us! The fights at school, the calls from teachers, the attitude... I could go on and on, but I won't cause it's none of yer goddam business. I don't want him and that's that. I got one of 'em already, I don' need a second" Dawn began to swing the door closed.

Sandy, unable to help himself at this point, stepped in it's way. The angry woman popped her head out once more, he spoke before she could yell at him. "Don't you think you're over reacting? Kids are kids, they all get in to trouble, right? Maybe you just.. need a break from him? Maybe just for... the week end?"

Dawn stopped trying to push the door closed and stared at him.

He continued to rush on, "I mean, like a vacation from him. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? So maybe Ryan could just.. stay with a friend for a couple days, until you can think things out. And then you can make a final decision."

"He ain't got no friends"

"What about...Theresa?" he finally remembered the girl's name. "Maybe he could stay next door?"

Dawn took another sip of her drink, the glass now empty. "If it's a vacation, I shouldn't hafta see my kid"

Sandy tried to hide his disbelief. "Then... he can come home with me" he said in a rush, trying to get her to agree to something. To anything.

"Where do you live?"

" Not in Chino" he replied.

She studied him through reddened eyes. "Fine. I don't care. Keep him there for all I care"

"Here's my number, you call me and let me know when you want to see him again, okay?" he handed her a business card, scribbled cell phone number on the back. "This is my cell phone, you can call that anytime, day or night. We'll work this out, okay?"

Dawn grabbed the card from him and studied it for a moment.

"Dawn?" a man's voice called from inside.

The woman in front of him jumped and, without a goodbye to Sandy, slammed the door closed in his face.

He stood there for a minute feeling like a solicitor before Sandy finally realised exactly what he had agreed to. Another kid. For a time that was undisclosed. The first thought to enter his mind was what, exactly, he would tell Kirsten, nevertheless Seth. The second thought to enter his mind was, what the hell was he supposed to tell Ryan?

Ryan was sitting on the curb pulling at dried out crabgrass when a shadow fell over him. This was it, he knew. He'd heard Dawn earlier, telling the police officer she didn't want him, to take him to child services.

He wasn't sure exactly what he'd done to piss her off so much this time. Not that he ever really did any time he'd had to take off for the week end, but this was different. This wasn't just a beating from her fling-of-the-month. This wasn't just a drunken or high Dawn kicking him out of the house for a couple hours or a night. This was Dawn, his mother, kicking him out of the house for good. Saying she didn't want him any more, at all.

She was giving him up.

He had tried to apologize. She hadn't listened. She never did when she was drunk.

Where would he end up? In some foster home with five other kids? He knew some kids from school who lived with foster families. Ryan had actually become somewhat friends with one of them and had ended up at his place. Two weeks later, Ryan had been invited back to a completely different house. Same kid, different house. Two weeks.

Ryan didn't want that. He wouldn't have that. And what about Trey? How was he supposed to see his brother? When was he supposed to see his brother? And Theresa? They wouldn't be neighbours anymore. He couldn't crash on her couch if his mother's boyfriends decided to take out a rough day on him. He had no where to hide. No where to go.

With a feeling of dread Ryan looked up. Squinting against the rapidly descending sun, he could make out a tall figure carrying a briefcase.

Arturo's lawyer. He didn't even know the man's name, what was he doing here anyways?

The man sat down next to him, dropping his expensive leather briefcase against the curb and leaning back on his palms. The grass crunched beneath them.

Ryan darted his gaze back to the road in front of him. Larch Street, cracked and broken with potholes that could probably swallow the largest of vehicles. Would it ever be home again?

He glanced at the man sitting next to him from the corner of his eye. The man was staring back. Openly. His hands were now in his lap, drumming against a tune that was only in the man's head.

"What?" Ryan finally asked.

"What?" The man asked, innocence dripping from his voice, "Can't a guy just... sit on a curb and relax?"

Ryan was silent for a moment, "Not when he's wearing a suit worth more than my entire wardrobe and leather shoes worth twice that, while sitting across from his newer model car that would offer the comfot of air conditioning."

Ryan was sure it was the longest statement he had made in a very long time. In Chino, the shorter your answer was, the more breath you had to run in a given moment. But this man, somehow, was different. Ryan could sense it.

"Fair enough" The man finally said, "You want to talk in the car, where there's air conditioning?"

Ryan shot him a look from the corner of his eyes, "I was always told not to get in cars with strangers". Of course, Dawn had never told him that, but he'd heard other kids using the phrase, and assumed it was generally a parental norm.

The man snorted in laughter.

Did he know Ryan's secret?

"We've got to talk"

Ryan shifted, "What about?" He hadn't done anything wrong, far as he knew.

"Your mom"

It was Ryan's turn to chuckle.

An awkward silence followed for a moment, but the man rushed to fill it. "Look, Ryan -"

"I know already. I know" Ryan saved him the speech.

"You... do?" Sandy asked, incredulous. How could this child know his mother didn't want him, and not be heartbroken. If there was one thing parents were suppsoed to offer, it was unconditional love.

"Yeah. I get it. She doesn't want me anymore. I go to a foster home, get shipped around from home to home. What's not to love, really?"

"You're wrong"

"Oh yeah? About what, exactly?"

Sandy looked the child in the eye and held his gaze, "You're not going to a foster home, and your mother does love you, she's just a little..."

"Drunk?" Ryan offered. The man's face fell, "High?" he continued.

"I was going to say upset and confused"

Ryan shrugged, "So where am I going anyways?"

The man paused for a moment, "Well... I had a talk with your mom, and she agreed to... instead of giving up custody, take a little... break... so.. you're going to stay with me for a couple days"

Ryan smirked, "You're kidding right?"

Sandy shook his head.

"I don't even know you"

"Sandy Cohen. Age is not to be disclosed, I'm a public defender"

"I guess that clears that up" Ryan stated sarcastically.

"Look, Ryan. I know this is a little weird but -"

"A little weird? I don't even know you, and suddenly I'm supposed to trust you, and go home with you? Are you lonely, or am I supposed to be the family pet you're bringing home?" Ryan snapped angrily, standing up from the curb. "I don't need your charity and I don't need any favours, so what is your deal?"

Sandy stood up slowly, towering over the young boy. As soon as Sandy had straightened he saw Ryan involuntarily flinch and step backwards, his face quickly changing back to a mask of anger. "It's none of the above, really. You want to know the truth?"

Ryan stared back stonily.

"The truth is that I agreed to take you for a few days without even realising what I was doing. All I knew is that all day long, every day, I see kids like you that went out and did something stupid because so-and-so said to do it. I didn't want you to be one." Sandy could hear the quiver in his own voice, on the verge of losing his head.

Ryan's angry facade dropped then and he hung his head. There was a moment of silence before he looked up again and Sandy was surprised to see tear streaks down his bruised and discoloured face.

"What did I do?" he whispered so softly Sandy nearly didn't hear him, "What did I do to make her not love me anymore?"

Sandy's heart broke for what seemed like the tenth time in the past couple hours, and he moved forward pulling the young boy towards him. Ryan resisted for a moment, but finally let Sandy embrace him when he realised there was no danger of being punched or slapped.

Together they stood like that for what seemed like hours. Until Sandy could draw a full breath again, and until Ryan had stopped shaking in his arms from his sobs.

Sandy pulled in to his driveway, the bright lights shining against the huge house sitting at the end of it. Kirsten was home, her car was in the driveway. Naturally he assumed Seth would be home as well, as the kid was always home. A social outcast, just as Sandy himself had really been.

He studied the boy next to him who had fallen asleep on the long ride to Newport. Sandy didn't think the kid had even made it until they hit the outer limits of Chino before he'd submitted to unconsciousness. Physically and emotionally worn out from the day.

Sandy felt the same way, wishing he could just walk inside and pass out on the living room sofa, but he also knew it wouldn't happen. He had a lot of explaining to do. He'd decided that the conversation he needed to have with Kirsten was not exactly one they should have on the phone. Their relationship, solid as it seemed, had recently hit a few bumps.

Bumps like Caleb, her father, and the time that each of their jobs swallowed away from their family.

They were falling apart, Kirsten had said. Family dinners were rare, Seth was practically being raised by Rosa. Everyone's relationship was on the rocks right now. He hoped they could survive this. Unsnapping his seatbelt quietly Sandy removed the keys from the ignition, climbing out of the car and making his way over to Ryan's side. Softly and slowly, as though attempting not to wake a newborn baby once it finally fell asleep, Sandy unclipped Ryan's seatbelt.

It struck him then how odd the gesture seemed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to carry Seth in from the car. Not that he had to carry Ryan, he just didn't want to wake him up. The kid had had one hell of a day.

Fortunately Sandy managed to slip Ryan from the car with very little trouble though carrying him was more than a little awkward. Though short for his age, Ryan seemed to have hidden weight somewhere. Perhaps what he had chalked up to babyfat was a little bit of muscle? Maybe Ryan was a little scrapper, like Sandy himself had been.

Seth hadn't taken after him like that. He was definitely not in to the team sports thing. Though he did sail with Caleb occaisionally, Sandy couldn't for the life of him, get Seth to try surfing.

Sandy's arm was nearly numb by the time he reached the front door. Angling his body awkwardly he managed to press down on the door hand and push the door open with the back of his shoulder. Glancing down at Ryan who was still asleep, Sandy smiled. He'd made it, he thought. Now he just had to find a place to put him.

He kicked his shoes off and slowly trudged down the stairs towards the kitchen.

"Sandy? Is that you?" Kirsten's voice called.

Sandy clenched his teeth, glancing down at the still sleeping child. His arm was really numb now. Instead of calling back a reply, Sandy hurried down the hall, away from the living room where Kirsten was, to one of the guest rooms.

"Sandy!" Kirsten demanded.

Sandy stopped and turned. Busted. Not that he'd expected to get away with stowing a kid in the house for a couple days, but he had hoped to get him to a bed before the fighting began.

Another glance at Ryan. Still sleeping. Sandy held a finger to his lips and gestured that he would just be a minute. Quickly he managed to find his way to the bed in the semi-darkness.

Beside him Kirsten pulled back the bed covers and nodded for Sandy to put him down. He did so and watched his wife pull the covers up to Ryan's shoulders. The boy slipped over on to his side, snuggling further in to the soft pillows and comforter. Silently they both watched the boy for a moment and, finally content, backed out of the room. Kirsten gently pulled the door until it was nearly closed and shot Sandy a look.

_Explain. Now._

Sandy followed her retreating form to the kitchen, each step taking him closer to his own demise.

The Kirsten was nothing to be fooled around with.


	3. Three

**Morning After**

a/n: okay. I got intwined in my own story (again). I can't stop writing it, can't stop thinking it, and now I'm giving up sleep to write and post. Hope you're all happy, hehehe.

Chapter Three

_**Now I feel changed around**_

_**And Instead of falling down**_

_**I'm standing up the morning after.**_

"His name's Ryan, and he's eleven" Sandy offered, breaking the deafening silence that had fallen on to the kitchen.

Kirsten, arms crossed, turned to face her husband expectantly.

Sandy gestured to a chair but she adamently shook her head. He sighed, "Honey, I know I should have called and asked and... but don't hold my mistakes against this kid, Kirsten. He hasn't done anything wrong"

"You still haven't told me why he's here, Sandy"

"His mother..." he let out a breath feeling his pulse begin to race at the mere thought of the woman. A mother who let her boyfriends beat her child? Maybe her children, by the sound of it. A mother who dealt with everything through alcoholism and who the hell knows what else? There was definitely a lot of explaining to do, where should he even start?

"He's a friend of one of my client's sister" he stated. That was as good a place to start as any.

"Sandy. You work with criminals."

"I know!" he defended, "But Ryan has nothing to do with this. He showed up while I was finishing up a meeting with my client's mother. There were... he'd been beaten, Kirsten. And it wasn't some school yard fight. We got him some ice, and shoftly after he went outside. We heard yelling and ran outside ourselves to find his... mother's boyfriend ready to pummel him in to the ground. I intervened and the police got involved. It was a whole... big thing. That's when I called you the first time, to let you know I'd be late."

"Didn't the police do anything?"

"As much as they can do" Sandy shrugged, then saw Kirsten's face, "Which isn't much. Ryan's mother, Dawn, told the police she didn't want him anymore. They were getting ready to take him in to social services when -"

"Let me guess. You intervened" Kirsten interrupted.

Sandy offered a charming smile. "I had to, honey. I mean, to see him being treated like that... by his own mother... I just... anyways. I told Dawn that I would take him home for a couple days, see if she changed her mind when she was... sobre."

"And what if she doesn't change her mind Sandy, what then? Are we supposed to keep him here? Hand him off to child services like a stray puppy? It's going to be even more cruel leading him on like this, Sandy..."

Sandy grimaced, having not thought of that aspect. He'd only wanted Ryan to have a bed to sleep in, someone around him who cared. Like Sandy. "I just... Kirsten I wanted him to... to show him that the world isn't all alcoholism and beatings. I just thought it would be better to let Dawn cool off a bit, who knows, maybe she'll come around... people can change. At least, that's what you keep telling me about Cal."

Kirsten sighed and unfolded her arms.

"Should I set up camp on the couch?" Sandy asked her. Receiving a twitching smile in response Sandy moved in behind her, rubbing her neck and shoulders... "I know it's a little... drastic but... I don't like seeing any kid go in to the system. Especially not a good one."

"How do you know he's good?" Kirsten questioned.

"All kids are good. And this one... Ryan... there's something else there... like he has a million secrets rolling around in his head"

"From what you tell me, Sandy, he probably does. And they probably aren't happy things."

"Can we do this?" Sandy asked her, leaning his head on her shoulder.

Kirsten didn't say anything for a moment, "Of course we can, Sandy. Even I can't turn an eleven year old kid away." she turned towards him, "And speaking of eleven year old's, your son was pretty miffed with you today."

"How come?"

Kirsten crossed her arms again, pulling away, "Sandy. What were you supposed to do with Seth this afternoon?"

Sandy thought for a moment...

"I'll give you a hint. Superheroes and villains"

"Ahhh.." Sandy let out.

"By the time I got home from work, they were closed. Since tomorrow is Saturday my guess is that you _will_ be making up lost time with your son" she said, more statement of a fact than a question.

"Of course" Sandy replied easily.

Kirsten smiled, "Now all we have to do is figure out what to tell Seth"

Ryan could feel himself beginning to wake up, his senses beginning to register everything in his foggy mind.

The first thing he realised was that he wasn't in his own lumpy bed, or even Theresa's old hard couch. The sheets were smooth as silk against his arms, and his head was surrounded by soft pillows., a soft smell of vanilla fabris softener drifted towards his nose.

The second thing that came to mind was that there was no yelling, which supported his first theory that he wasn't at home. Theresa wasn't punching him in the shoulder to wake him up either, which again cancelled out her house.

So where was he, exactly? His eyes still closed Ryan went over the events of yesterday in his mind until he came to yesterday evening. His mother, drunk. Greg, drunk. The police... and Sandy. The lawyer.

He was at the lawyer's house.

Ryan finally cracked open an eye and jumped in surprise, rolling over the side of the bed and covering his face out of pure habitual instinct.

_Crunch, Crunch, Crunch._

Ryan cracked open an eye again and looked up from under his arm. No yelling. No slapping. No beating. Just crunching. A child, probably about the same age as himself, sat cross legged on a chair beside the bed, holding a bowl of cereal and feasting.

His dark unruly curls were still flattened from sleep, but his eyes were wide with excitement, lips parted in amusement. Still he crunched away on his cereal.

Ryan eyed the bowl, his stomach growling. Slowly he pulled himself out from under the covers to find himself still dressed in yesterday's clothes, sweatshirt and jeans. Both had seen better days.

"Hi" the curly haired boy finally stated, setting down his empty bowl. Ryan's eyes followed, but he didn't reply.

"So I think I'm a little old for imaginary friends, which must mean you're real, but are you friendly? You don't look like it with that scowl on your face, something you may wish to think about changing. Of course, if you're going for the dark angry sort of character I guess that look works..."

Ryan raised his eye brows, still not parting his lips for a word.

"I see. You must be the strong silent type my dad always talks about. He works with jail kids... are you a jail kid?"

"Seth!" a man's voice scolded as a tall athletic figure entered the room. Sandy. "Didn't your mother and I tell you _not_ to bother Ryan?"

Seth scowled at his father, "I just wanted to see what you ditched me for yesterday." Seth shot back.

Ryan, sensing the tension, finally spoke. "So you're Seth"

Seth tore his angry gaze away from his abashed father for a moment to stare at Ryan. "My god, you _do_ talk"

Ryan ignored the jab, "Your old man didn't shut up once about you yesterday" he continued. Of course, Sandy had really done no such thing. He'd mentioned Seth once or twice, and Kirsten, but Ryan had fallen asleep before the man had gotten a chance to go in to a long elaborate story. However, Ryan also knew that with kids like Seth, the best way to get them to shut up was to get them to believe you were thinking about them all the time.

He'd met kids like Seth before, could already tell the type from the time he started talking. Kids that were more than a little lonely and wanted attention. Kids who were... very immersed in themselves as opposed to the world around them.

And Ryan was a stranger, what reason would he have to lie? Therefor, Seth would likely believe his word and things would all be well again. At least for a little while.

It worked. Seth's eyes had popped slightly at Ryan's admittance, or rather, white lie, and he'd turned to his father forgiveness written on his face. "Really? You guys talked about me? What did you say about me dad?"

Ryan snorted. Self immersed, he thought.

Seth seemed to have taken Ryan's snort the wrong way, and shot a look of daggers at him.

Ryan, from experience, knew how to act defensive. He shrugged his shoulders slightly and raised his hands, "I think it would be easier to tell you what he didn't say" Ryan stated.

A smile lit Seth's face. It was all he'd wanted, a little more elaboration. The words and context didn't matter, only the fact that, supposedly, Ryan had heard all about him from his adoring father.

It almost made Ryan sick to his stomach.

He'd never wanted all of his father's attention, or his mother's. He'd only wanted to be loved. It didn't mean that they would have had to spend every waking moment with him, or talking about him, just as long as once in awhile he got the reassurance that they loved him, no matter what.

He never had gotten it. Nor had Trey. When their father had been sent to prison and they all moved from Fresno to Chino, their mother had said it would be different. A new start, she'd said. It wasn't a new start. It was the same thing, the same shit, every day. The only thing that had changed was the location and the person their mother was with. The drinking, the drugs, the yelling and hitting, ignorant teachers and inept social workers, it all stayed the same.

Until he'd woken up this morning, Ryan had believed that it always would be the same thing. At least until he could get a job and move out on his own, or maybe with Trey. But this morning he found that he could move about without fear of running in to someone who would smack him for some reason or other.

This morning, Ryan was standing up the morning after his mother's drinking and Greg's beating.

Today was different, a new chapter of Ryan Atwood. The only thing he had to fear now was how long it would last.

Ryan swung back and forth on the swing, his toes digging in to the warm, soft sand. As a kid coming from the likenesses of Chino, Ryan knew that even this simple activity was bathed in the money of Newport. He could see it in the giant beachside playground, where there were no burn marks in the red plastic tube slides. He could smell it in the air, the smell of the ocean was the only smell to hit his nose, instead of the exhaust from a backfiring car. He could even feel it on his toes. The sand in Chino was the grainy pebble kind. A killer if you landed face down after jumping from a swing, especially when the area was littered with broken glass and cigarette butts. Here in Newport, there was only warmth and softness enveloping his toes.

His piercing blue eyes scanned his surroundings, attempting to store everything in to his memory for when he needed a calm moment on a hard day.

He knew they would come eventually, because Sandy and Kirsten had sat him down for a 'talk' after breakfast.

_"What if she doesn't want me back?" Ryan had asked. And he'd known, as soon as he looked in to Sandy's eyes and Kirsten's rigid posture. He hadn't needed the explanation from Sandy, but he'd gotten it anyways._

_"You'll be relinquished to the State of California, a child of the state. Go in to a foster care system... lots of people look for the younger kids Ryan, you would have a good chance of an adoption"_

_Kirsten hadn't even been able to meet his eyes._

So here he was, enjoying the sights and sounds of Newport Beach for a couple days. His future was uncertain and for once in Ryan's life, he himself was uncertain. Watching these little kids prance around in fancy clothes with fancy cars coming from houses bigger than his and Theresa' s combined. He was a fish out of water, he didn't belong here.

But he could act as though he belonged here. He could feel the occaisional glances from other children, their eyes dancing with the question as to who he was and what he was doing here. He didn't look back at him, he just stayed on his guard and kept watch over Seth.

Which was another story altogether.

He didn't particularly even like Seth, the spoiled little boy that he was. But he'd lied to Seth for Seth, as well as Sandy, which really only embraced the kid's idea that the world was about him. And now here Ryan was sitting at the playground watching Seth, like Trey had done for him so many times.

_"We can't go the the playground right now, Seth" Kirsten's voice had been exasperated. She was sitting at the table going over countless letters and blueprints when Seth had begun his campaign to 'go to the park'._

_"I can go myself mom, I'm eleven."_

_"Seth, it's a long walk and I don't want you going alone. Wait until later, your father will take you after he finishes the shopping"_

_"But I want to go now! Later will be too late mom!" Seth was beginning to get red in the face, an easy sign of an oncoming tantrum._

_"I'll go with him" Ryan offered quietly, looking up from the couch where he'd been reading one of Sandy's law books._

_Kirsten glanced at him, somewhat stunned. He hadn't really spoken all morning and definitely hadn't made an effort to be Seth's friend._

_"See mom! Ryan and I will go. We'll be fine, pleeeaaassee!"_

_Kirsten finally relented and gave them a curfew._

Ryan hadn't known what Seth had meant before when he'd said, "Later will be too late". However he'd picked up on it as soon as they'd gotten to the park where Seth left Ryan standing alone at the swings, telling him to watch his skateboard.

A girl. A pretty girl, but seemingly mean nonetheless. It took her two seconds to turn her back on Seth's greeting, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder in the process. Seth had stood there for nearly a full minute before he'd left, leaving the dark-haired girl and a couple others giggling in his wake.

He hadn't come back over to Ryan, which proved Ryan's thought that Seth really had no interest in him, other than the fact that Ryan was stealing away his parents' attention away from himself. Instead, Seth had gone over and plopped himself in front of a large tic-tac-toe game and begun to spin the large yellow beads while continuing to stare at the dark haired girl.

Seth hadn't noticed the two young boys swinging from all the available equipment. He hadn't noticed that their gaze never seemed to leave the curly-haired boy, or the looks on their faces.

Ryan had noticed. He'd seen the look before. The sneer, eyes full of contempt and mischief. Ryan had also noticed that every five minutes or so, the two boys would move just a little bit closer to Seth and grin a little bit harder. He'd also noticed a rise in his own heartbeat, and the salty taste under his tongue he got before a fight. The sweating of his palms and the tightening of his fists didn't go unnnoticed either.

When the boys were only a few feet away, Ryan finally jumped off the swing quietly, steadily, and shoved his too-large hand-me-down sneakers on his feet.

"Hey kissass, what are you doing here?" a voice snarked from behind him.

Seth jumped out of his reverie and suddenly noticed Luke and Nordstrom standing nearly at his side, practically salivating for a shoving match. He didn't want this, not today, not in front of all these witnesses, in front of Summer.

But Luke did, because Luke wanted Summer and Marissa to see how tough he was, how strong he was. Seth knew from experience that what Luke said, goes. He'd learnt that lesson the very first time Luke had locked him in his own locker after school and had to wait until the janitor heard muffled crying from it.

Seth stood up, preparing himself mentally and physically to take this ego-bashing in front of the girl of his dreams. "I'm just hanging out" Seth replied easily, a light tone enveloping his voice.

"Yeah, well I don't want losers hanging out on _my_ playground" Luke sneered.

Seth raised his eyebrows and glanced around, "I'm sorry, Luke, I didn't even _see _your name on the playground, I wasn't aware that it was so much yours as a public place"

Luke's jaw tightened and shot out to grab Seth's collar, pulling him closer. Aside from the deep breaths emitting themselves from Luke's lungs, Seth could hear nothing, a sure sign that all kids nearby were well aware a fight was in the making.

"Let him go" an equally firm sounding voice suddenly emerged.

Seth felt himself get released and shoved away. Quickly he righted himself, let out a breath and stood back to stare at the newcomer. Who the hell was crazy enough to take on Luke and his sidekick?

And as soon as he'd thought it, he knew. Ryan.

Sure enough, Ryan stood there fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight and his gaze unwavering.

"You okay?" Ryan asked him without even changing his gaze.

Seth, surprised, nodded. "Yea" he replied quickly, realising Ryan couldn't hear or see him shake his head.

"You got a problem with me?" Luke turned to face his new opponent.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, "I don't know. Do we have a problem, or are you going to leave Seth alone?"

Luke snorted, "Who the hell are you, and why the hell would you protect this faggot" Luke nodded his head towards Seth. Seth felt his face blush red, and it wasn't from the sun.

"I've always been one for the under dog" Ryan shrugged noachalantly.

Even Seth had to smile at the quirk.

"Well now you're the underdog, so who's gonna save you?"

Ryan smiled, "It's not me I'm worried about, you gonna stand there like a chickenshit all day or are you gonna throw a punch?" he challenged.

Luke's reaction was predictable, and Luke never failed to meet expectations. Quickly he threw a fist out towards Ryan's face, who dodged it easily. Luke took a step back, thrown off balance for a minute.

"Well. Now I'm scared" Ryan remarked, smiling.

A few kids around the group chuckled and this time it was Luke who turned red with embarassment. Shooting a look at Nordstrom, Luke nodded and both boys rushed Ryan. Instead of trying to move out of the way, Ryan met force with force, throwing himself against the two boys and causing all three of them to fall to the sand.

There was a flurry of excitement amongst the kids now as fists began to fly as well as the white beach sand. Ryan had originally managed to land on top, his size in his favour, but was now pinned beneath Luke who was thrusting his fists angrily towards Ryan's face. Beside them both, Nordstrom sat back and watched a smile on his face.

For some reason, this made Seth even angrier than Luke appeared, and for another stupid unknown reason Seth decided to get himself involved. Reaching forwards Seth grabbed the back of Luke's shirt, yanking with all the strength in him. He stepped back surprised as Luke came flying off of Ryan for a second. Ryan, sensing the realease of weight, immediately sat up and threw himself across the sand at Luke once more, this time managing to keep in the top position.

Seth was so involved in watching Ryan that he was caught offguard when Nordstrom punched him in the eye from the side, sending Seth sailing to the sand.

"Stop it!" a voice cried out suddenly, urgently. A girls' voice.

All four guys looked up suddenly as a young blonde-haired girl dredged herself to the front of the crowd, the pretty dark haired girl in tow. She stood there, hands on her hips, giving them all the death glare, "You're all idiots" she snapped at them, and as quickly as she had come, she had gone again.

The crowd slowly dispersed and Seth felt Nordstrom roll off of him. Beside the two of them, Ryan slowly stood up and took a step back from Luke whose face was flushed with anger. The telltale colouring was already beginning to appear on all four boys' faces by the time they'd had parting words with eachother and left the playground.

"Oh my... what happened to you guys!" Kirsten demanded upon seeing the boys troop through the kitchen, hair askew and bruises on their faces. Of course, Ryan had already had a couple telltale bruises, but now his right eye was nearly swollen shut and the bruising was twice as bad, to top it off dried blood had been wiped from under his nose. Her eyes darted to Seth who was also touselled and sporting a slightly blackened eye. Yet it wasn't even that which caught her attention. It was his face.

Seth Cohen was smiling. He was practically glowing.

"Mom, you shoulda seen... well maybe not but... it was awesome, Luke tried to start a fight with me and then Ryan told him to leave me alone and -"

Kirsten cut him off with a wave of her hand, "Lets get you cleaned up, then you _both_ can explain" she told them, feeling something in the pit of her stomach. Almost a nervous sensation, though she wasn't sure whether it was because her mopy pre-teen was smiling on his own or whether it was the thought that her _baby_ had just been in a fight. She led them both to the main floor washroom and began pulling out a fully stocked first aid kit.

"Seth, toilet, now. Ryan, sit on the edge of the bathtub. I'll go get you both some ice..."

Once she left Seth turned to Ryan beaming, "You were awesome!" he exclaimed.

Ryan looked down at his hands, not replying.

"Really man, you had my back, no one else has ever... Ry... can I call you Ry? I've never really had a _friend_ before Ry -" he stopped his babbling as Kirsten entered the washroom once more, holding two of those blue flexible icepacks.

Ryan took one gratefully, thinking of the frozen peas he'd often had to use at his house in the middle of the night.

Kirsten, of course, began checking over Seth first trying to get him to sit still long enough so she could examine him. Ryan set down the icepack on the tub ledge and grabbed some toilet paper to start cleaning himself up. He glanced in the mirror, barely high enough to see in to it, to examine his injuries.

Muddled with the once from the day before, Ryan grimaced, thinking he kind of looked like an ogre. Ryan had managed to patch himself up before Kirsten had even gotten the Dextol anywhere near the cut on Seth's cheek, the young boy flinching away every time Kirsten got the cotton ball near him.

"No way, that stuff _stings_ mom!"

Ryan managed to choke back a laugh, but it hadn't gone unnoticed.

"What are you doing?" Kirsten demanded.

Ryan quickly put the tube of ozonol back on the counter, "I'm sorry... I didn't... I mean... I" he shrank away.

"No, no Ryan. You didn't do anything wrong.. I was just... surprised... you... don't you want me to clean all that up?"

Ryan shrugged, "I can do it, I do it at home myself" he stated.

Kirsten seemed at a loss of words and immediately Ryan felt his cheeks flush with embarassment, "I'm sorry" he apologized quickly.

"Don't be" Kirsten told him giving him a smile, "I wish Seth were as productive as you" she teased her son, and in the distraction she managed to grab his chin and rub some Dextol across his cheek. The reaction was immediate and Seth slapped his hand to the face as if freshly wounded, "Ow! You're hurting mroe than helping mom!" he cried.

Kirsten smiled gently and tossed the cotton ball away, grabbing Seth's head she told him to close his eyes and once he did, she gently blew on the now-stinging cut to relieve the pain.

Ryan, from the bathroom sink, watched the exchange carefully, something in his chest tightening. His mom had never done that to his cuts and scrapes. He wished he could tell Seth exactly how lucky he was to have a pestering and over-protecting mother. It was better than no mother at all.

"Sandy, they got in a fight!" Kirsten pointed out for the tenth time after dinner. The boys were already in their rooms, supposedly asleep for the night, but she had her doubts when she'd seen Seth's sneaky smile from under the covers.

"I know honey, but boys and boys... they fight... that's how they become men" Sandy pointed out again, not particularly understanding where his wife was coming from this time.

"So you're saying Seth has to fight to be a man? That's ridiculous Sandy, and you know it! If we teach him that fighting is okay now, then how do you think he's going to solve a dispute in twenty years!"

Sandy put his cup of coffee on the counter, "With all due respect hon, a playground disagreement is a lot different than anything he may encounter in twenty years!"

"He never fought before Ryan came!" Kirsten shot back.

Sandy crossed his arms, "They both say that Luke started it, and I believe them." He would never tell his wife this, but Sandy had been almost proud of Seth when he'd heard, the boy had finally stood up for himself.

"So that's it then? No punishment!"

"That's not what I said, we both agreed to ground Seth for the week... but I have the feeling you're trying to get at more, aren't you?"

Kirsten crossed her arms across her chest and studied the counter for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Seth's my child, Sandy. He's our child, and I love him. I don't want him getting hurt! What do you think is going to happen once Seth goes back to school on Monday and Ryan's not there to step in and protect him!"

Sandy waited for the point, but didn't wait long.

"Sandy, I don't want him here after Monday. I can't have him... endangering Seth like this -"

"He saved Seth!"

"But he can't help Seth if he's not there, and now he's taught Seth to stand up -"

"For himself?" Sandy demanded, "Because I'm kind of happy he's finally learnt to speak his own opinion! You know how these kids are Kirsten, spoiled rich and rotten! When we first had him, when we were in Berkley, we promised eachother Seth would never have everything handed to him, and yet, he has. This is a chance to change that Kirsten, to make Seth an all around better child, more world knowledgeable. Already in one day, Ryan has taught Seth more about the world than we have in the past year!"

Kirsten's gaze didn't falter.

The phone rang then and the tense atmostphere in the kitchen was split. Sandy grabbed up the phone in need of a distraction.

"Hello?" he asked.

Silence for a moment.

"Hello?" he repeated.

"I want 'im back" a voice slurred, obviously more than a little intoxicated.

"What?" Sandy asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. No matter how much he didn't want Ryan in Child Services, he wanted him back with hsi drunken and abusive mother even less.

"Ryan. I want him back. I want my kid back!" she screamed in to the phone.

"Dawn... I'll call you back in a minute okay, I just have to switch phones" Sandy told her, shooting a glance at Kirsten who was studying the tiled counter once more.

Dawn said nothing in return but hung up the receiver, because a dial tone suddenly filled the kitchen. Sandy gently hung up the receiver and turned to his wife, face slack.

"Well..." he countered, "I guess you get what you want" He knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he hadn't expected Kirsten's reaction.

Her face crumpled and a sob finally escaped her lips, immediately Sandy crossed the kitchen to comfort her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, arms encircling her.

"That's not what I want, Sandy"

"I thought you said he couldn't stay here.."

"I know... and he can't.." Kirsten replied, sniffing, "But I don't want him back with that horrible mother of his either... he needs a safe home, Sandy..."

"I couldn't agree more" he whispered, pulling her head against his shoulder, "I couldn't agree more" he repeated softer.


	4. Four

**Arms Around You**

Chapter Four

"Are we doing the right thing?" Kirsten blurted out suddenly, filling the silent kitchen with her worry.

Sandy stopped pacing for a moment and looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean... with Dawn...and Ryan... should he really go back to her? After everything that happened? What if it's not safe, what if he gets hurt again Sandy? I'm not sure I could... I don't know if I could live with that."

Sandy paused for a moment confused, "Honey.. you said... he couldn't stay here... where else could he go?"

"What about a foster home Sandy? There's... good ones out there, aren't there?"

Sandy looked her in the eye, "Kirsten, there are _some_ good placements out there. And by good, I mean with only a couple other kids in the same house. These places, foster homes, group homes... they're no place for a kid to grow up in, they're unpredictable and offer no stability in a child's life... sometimes the other kids are abusive, sometimes the parents are abusive..."

"I thought there was screening.. or something"

Sandy snorted, "If you want to call it that. Look, Kirsten. If Ryan can't stay here, and his mother wants him back, legally we have no right to keep him. The best we can do is let Child Services know what we witnessed, which we already did. There's nothing more we can do" Sandy finished. It felt odd, trying to explain this to Kirsten as if things were suddenly backwards.

She'd been a wreck since last night, since Dawn had called and told them her news. Neither of them had particularly slept well, which led to a variety of other effects. Like mood swings, and the inability to look an eleven year old child in the eye.

Of course they had told him. After breakfast they had sat Ryan down to explain it to him, Sandy was sure he'd known as soon as they asked to speak with him. Though Ryan had only been staying with the Cohens for just over a day now, Sandy had seen glimpses of what Ryan was supposed to be. A child. Once in awhile you could see it in his eyes or smile, his actions with Seth. They had all been exposed to Ryan's slight moments of easiness and innocence.

He hadn't seen it since they'd broken the news to him.

00000000000000000000

Ryan sat on the overstuffed leather couch, hands in his lap and feet dangling just inches from the floor. Beside him Seth was bouncing around crazily, throwing his hands up in the air when ever he lost against the computer in the game he was playing.

It was surprising, the difference he'd seen in Seth in just a day or so. Well, in actuality since Ryan had stood up for him at the park. Such a simple gesture had seemed to ignite a spark in the kid, causing him to slowly emerge from the egotistical shell he once was.

Ryan hadn't bothered telling him he was leaving. First he'd thought Kirsten and Sandy would have said something, but only until Seth had started to try and make plans with him for tomorrow after school. He'd almost let it slip that he wasn't going to be around but had caught himself just in time.

_"Why don't we just wait till tomorrow"_ Ryan had suggested. Eagerly Seth had agreed. The memory of his dark bobbing curls still brought a small grin to Ryan's face. Being around Seth almost made him forget that he was... well Ryan Atwood. Almost as if just witnessing the enthusiasm Seth had for life in general were contagious.

Yesterday, at the park, it hadn't just been old habits that had made him confront Luke, it had been something else. Some sort of... connection or responsibility he'd felt towards Seth.

And now, now he was sitting on this couch in a massive house waiting for his train-wreck of a mother to come and claim him, and take him back to the pit that was his home. The place he supposed he belonged, because after yesterday it wasn't likely that anyone around here would be talking to him anytime soon. At least, not apart from Seth.

For the seventh time in the past ten minutes his eyes flickered to the digital clock one the VCR. Beside him Seth continued to slash away at the monsters that made their appearances on the screen. In the kitchen, he could faintly hear Sandy and Kirsten having some sort of discussion that probably pertained to dinner plans that evening.

He sighed and pressed himself back in to the couch. Even if he belonged in Chino, he didn't want to be in Chino. He didn't want to be with his mother, or her drunken boyfriends. He supposed he would miss Trey but would've made plans to visit him occaisionally. Not that any of that mattered, because even if he didn't like his mother much, she was still his mother. His responsibility.

He jumped when the door bell chimed, unconsciously his jaw clenched tightly and he found his hands balling in to fists in his lap.

Beside him Seth frowned and paused the videogame, apparently unused to visitors ringing the bell on a Sunday.

In the kitchen the adults voices stopped, and Kirsten's shoes could be heard clicking their way towards the front entry.

This was it. Ryan Atwood was going home.

It was only moments later the Kirsten and Sandy entered, ushering a young blonde haired woman in to the living room. Beside him Seth hit the pause on his controller and looked up, no reservations about himself.

"Who are you?" he demanded of the woman, eyeing his parents warily.

Dawn looked shocked that he had spoken to her like that, but quickly recovered. Her eyes shifted nervously and landed on Ryan, then stayed with him even as she replied to Seth's question. "I'm Ryan's mother."

Ryan folded his arms around his stomach, trying to repress the nausea in his stomach. The nervousness. She hadn't wanted him once, what if she threw him away again? He would have to try hard not to do anything wrong. He would have to make this work, even if he didn't like it. Dawn was his mother. He had to look after her.

"Ryan's..." Seth gained a look of comprehension, but swivelled his head in his parents direction angrily, "You're just gonna let her take him away!" he demanded. Seth wasn't stupid after all, not nearly as ignorant as he had appeared. He knew that his father didn't just bring home stray kids. He knew that when Kirsten and Sandy had said Ryan would be staying awhile, it meant there was a good reason.

"Seth, She's his _mother_." Kirsten replied directly to him.

Seth folded his arms angrily, beginning to sulk. "If she was his _mother,_ he wouldn't have had to sleep here this week end" he replied shortly.

Sandy's dark and caterpillar-like eyebrows nearly rose from his forehead. The answer had been playing in his head, but to hear Seth, his son, say it aloud made it all the more clearer. It also made him realise just how much Ryan had done for Seth. Something he'd never been able to do.

When no one replied Seth stormed from the room, face red.

"Honey... I'm sorry.." Dawn began, "About Friday and... all of that. But you don't need to worry about Greg anymore... he's gone... out of my life, out of our life... Trey's at home again... we both miss you"

Ryan consciously had to make the effort to separate his teeth before they ground to nothing. He stood from the couch ignoring his mother for the moment, and looked to Sandy and Kirsten, "Thank You, for everything..."

Sandy touselled Ryan's blonde hair and smiled, "Any time kid. I mean that" Sandy met his eyes for the first time that day.

Beside him Kirsten shifted nervously, obviously uncomfortable. It was merely a smile from Ryan that caused her to relax. Quickly she pulled the boy in to a hug, rubbing his back, "It was... interesting having you Ryan"

Sandy chuckled, trying to ease his own nerves away.

Seth watched Ryan leave with his mother in the beat up Chevy Nova, hand pressed against the glass. He'd known it wouldn't be permanent but had never bothered considering the end result.

Seth Cohen had just lost his first and only friend, aside from a plastic horse he'd named Captain Oats.

Ryan stared out the window at the Cohen house, sun beating through the dirty glass. It was cool on his forehead, and for a moment Ryan could close his eyes and pretend it was just the breeze off the ocean at the playground. Or even the ice pack pressed against his swollen eye.

"What happened to your face? You let some rich kid beat you up?" Dawn questioned, lighting a cigarette held between her lips.

Ryan didn't bother to tell her he'd actually gotten most of it from Greg, she'd just been too drunk to remember. Instead he closed his eyes tightly, trying not to watch the extravagance of Newport Beach turn into Larch Street in Chino.

0000000000000

Ryan walked up the cracked cement pathway towards his house, studying the overgrown crab grass sticking up between the slabs. It had been four days since he'd been taken from the Cohen's by his mother, six since she'd originally disowned him.

As always, Dawn's empty promises preceded her. Greg was back, and worse than ever.

He'd been waiting on the door stoop when Dawn and Ryan had pulled up after the drive from Newport. He'd begged, he'd pleaded.

_'I have nowhere else to go, Dawn. Please, I'm sorry.' _

_silence for a moment, then a sigh, ' Ryan, why don't you go on to Theresa's so Greg and I can talk'_

_'It's Sunday, mom, Theresa's at church with her mom.'_

_'Ryan, please! I'm trying to make things better for us!'_

_'We'd be better off without him' Ryan replied vehemently._

_For that, not only had he gotten a slap upside the head from Dawn, but a beating later from Greg after she had passed out._

Nothing had changed, nothing ever did, so why had he bothered getting his hopes up?

Completely lost in thought Ryan missed the warning signs he could usually pick up from a mile away. He missed Dawn's obvious sharp laughter, giggling almost. He'd missed the fact that the neighbour across the street, Mr. O'Riley, was watching him carefully with a look of disgust written upon his face. Ryan was even so lost in thought he didn't bother waiting for two minutes outside the door, listening for any sounds of anger, passion or otherwise.

He walked in on them in the living room, clothes half strewn across the floor, both of them all over eachother.

Worse yet, Ryan missed his chance to run and instead stood frozen like a deer in headlights.

Greg didn't miss a beat. As soon as his mother had managed to jump off of him and grab her shirt back from the floor Greg had leapt from the couch and pounced.

"I'm sorry!" Ryan exclaimed, squeezing his eyes closed trying to inch out of the grasp that held him tightly in place.

This time, the apology didn't seem to make the beating any better. On the bright side, it didn't seem to make it any worse.

00000000000000

Sandy tapped the file folder against his desk for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes, since he'd gotten it. He had yet to open it, hadn't yet decided whether he should or not. It was not a normal thing for Sandy to even be sitting at a desk with his job, which usually consisted of rushing from client to client, but today Sandy had made time. He'd left a small slot of time at the end of the day just for this, should he ever be able to open this damned file.

Again his eyes scanned the outside of it, taking in the greyish blue colour which was slightly marbled. A standard government file folder. Each day he saw many just like this one come across his desk full of arrest records, adoption papers, signed statements and anything pertinent to the case of a client.

This folder, though the same on the outside, was very different on the inside. Just like Ryan, who appeared like a normal child on the outisde but was very different on the inside. And it was Ryan's history which filled the fairly thick folder, at least, it was presumed to be. He just hadn't gotten the will to look at it yet.

Yesterday he had requested the folder as a favour from a friend. It had seemed like a good thing to do at the time, the only way to deal with this incomprehensible obsession with an eleven year old child he'd only known for a week end. Now, Sandy wasn't so sure. All he knew is that for the past four days, since Ryan had left, his family had nearly fallen apart.

Seth wouldn't talk to either him or Kirsten since Dawn had taken Ryan back to Chino. His first day back at school Seth had come home resentful and bruised. When Kirsten had asked what happened to him he'd snapped that it was 'Yours and dad's fault'. Sandy had a nagging feeling that whomever Seth and Ryan had stood up to at the park on Saturday had avenged it on his son. Kirsten had gotten the same idea and called the school, demanding an explanation and apology between the two boys. The next day Seth had returned home from school with no more bruises but had been as miserable as could be.

Sandy himself hadn't been able to sleep well, and hadn't even been able to concentrate fully on his work. The thought of that young kid having to return to an abusive and neglectful home had slowly been eating away at him, nagging on his mind. And this was the conclusion he had come to, a stupid grey file folder that contained no more than paper, a representative of Ryan's history.

Sandy didn't want Ryan's history, Sandy wanted to know how he was _now_.

00000000000000

Kirsten tossed the blueprint tube across her office, watching it land and roll towards the door.

Exactly where she wanted to be heading. It was ridiculous at how much she thought about this kid, Ryan. She'd only known him for two days, and hadn't even particularly been fond of him at first. How could you form a relationship with someone who barely spoke three words in just two days? Her brain said she couldn't.

_Impossible, the nagging voice added._

But her heart and her gut said it was possible.

All she wanted... all she really wanted, was to know that Ryan was okay living with his mother again. She wanted to know that she hadn't left him at the side of a street somewhere or moved out in his sleep. She wanted to know that Ryan wasn't being deprived of food, warmth and love.

No. She didn't want to know. Kirsten _had_ to know.

"Kiki?" the door to her office opened, revealing her father.

Kirsten rose her forehead from her palms, "Yes dad?" she asked.

Caleb frowned upon seeing his haggard daughter, "What's wrong with you lately Kiki?"

"Nothing dad, I'm just tired."

"Why don't you go home and get some rest" he suggested.

She wanted to say no, because she knew that Caleb would see her as weak if she gave in to the suggestion.

"I... have work to do" she managed to get out.

"Kiki, I'm worried about you. Don't worry about this" he gestured towards her scattered desk, "Get some rest, and I'll see you in the morning"

She really did want to say no. She had been working hard for his approval, to gain his trust and confidence in her, to show everyone else that she didn't just have the job because she was Caleb's daughter.

_I wonder if he's okay._

"Okay dad. Thanks." Kirsten replied suddenly, standing up and grabbing her suit jacket and purse from the chair.

00000000000000000000

"Hello Seth" a warm, friendly voice greeted.

Seth threw his back on the floor and then himself on the couch, shoes still on. He grunted a reply.

"Shoes off the couch" Rosa demanded, pushing his feet from the leather furniture.

Seth kicked off the sneakers and put his feet back on the couch, glaring at Rosa.

It wasn't her fault, he knew, but she was the only one around right now and so the blame would extend to her. School was getting worse each day. Standing up for himself had gotten him nothing but muted respect from the other geeks and misfits in the school.

Well, that wasn't true. It had also gotten the jocks to begin peeing in his sneakers while he was in phys ed., and more shoving and pushing, more tripping in the halls and in the lunch room. Standing up for himself had only gotten him in trouble with the same people who could make his every waking moment a living hell.

What he needed was to be invisible again. God he wished he could just disappear from everyone's radar once again like it had been before.

"Can I get you anything, Seth?" Rosa asked, picking up his shoes and heading towards the kitchen.

"How about an invisibility cloak" Seth muttered dryly.

"What was that?" Rosa asked.

"Nothing" Seth replied louder.

"Seth?"

"What!" he snapped, looking towards her. She was holding his shoes away from her, nose crinkled in disgust.

"Did you take your shoes off at the park?"

"I didn't go to the park" he stared at her, knowing exactly what she meant, "And I haven't seen a dog all day" he added.

Rosa's eyebrows flew up in suprise, then her eyes darkened in disgust. With deep tsking sounds she scuttered away, holding the shoes an arms length in front of her.

0000000000000000000

"Sandy" Kirsten stashed away the last of the left over Chinese food in the fridge. She turned to look at her husband.

"Yea?" he looked up.

"I wanted to... talk to you about something."

"Same here, but you go first" he encouraged.

Kirsten took a deep breath, "I want to go see him"

Sandy knew who she was talking about, despite the lack of names.

"Me too" he replied.

"I just want to make sure he's okay" she began to explain.

Sandy held up a hand, "I know honey... I do too. We'll go tomorrow... I... I tried calling him to talk to him..."

Kirsten's eyes widened, "How was he? How did he sound?"

He shrugged, "I wouldn't know. Dawn wouldn't let me talk to him"

Kirsten bit her lip and sat down on one of the bar stools. "Do you think... do you think he's okay?"

Sandy wanted to say no. He'd had the same question in his head all day and had gotten the same gut instinct every time. His call to Ryan's home didn't exactly confirm it, but it did offer quite a bit of insight.

"What... what will happen if he isn't? Sandy... she can't.. he can't stay there if she isn't treating him right... it's not fair it's... cruel!"

"I know. We'll see about it tomorrow. We'll call Child Services if we have to.. or the police. We'll figure something out for him, I promise. I have some friends in the foster care services, I might be able to pull a few strings." he looked up at his wife and offered a small smile. He wasn't sure whether he was trying to convince her, or himself anymore.

000000000000000

Ryan nearly dragged himself and his school bag out of class the next day. He couldn't wait until highschool at Chino Hills where no one took notice of absences. It would offer him an entire new level of freedom that he yearned for. Who knows, maybe he might even be able to do something productive while skipping his high school classes. Like learn something.

The curriculum and expectations at this school were not exactly high. His work was easy and often finished before class ended and there was no extra credit work offered. No chance to further his education and keep ahead, he had to wait for education to catch up with him.

He glanced up squinting his eyes against the high afternoon sun. His mother was supposed to pick him up today and take him to the walk in clinic. He hadn't bothered complaining when his wrist throbbed all yesterday, he knew it would only give his mother and Greg something else to fight and argue about. But this morning when he had dragged himself from a restless and painful sleep his wrist had been twice it's original size.

He'd wrapped it in a tensor and been on his way when Dawn had thrown him an apple for lunch. Ryan had made the mistake of attempting to catch it with his empty and injured hand, the left one. He'd been surprised when Dawn stated she would take him to the clinic after school, maybe she was changing...

He scanned the cars out front of the school once more watching for his mother and the beat up Nova to no avail. He was getting ready to start walking when someone caught his eye. Someone unexpected.

Ryan froze, feeling the pit of his stomach suddenly fill with lead. It was hard to swallow and hard to breath. Why was he there?

He didn't move, but the figure moved closer as Ryan watched, unable to continue walking down the sidewalk.

"Ryan?" Sandy asked, blinking to make sure he had the right kid. He was almost beyond recognition. Swollen and blackened eyes, bruises lining his cheekbones and eyes that looked like they hadn't slept for days. There were bruises on top of bruises and a sadness that you usually saw in a beggin puppy's eyes.

It made him want to throw up.

Sandy scanned the area for Kirsten, they had split up as soon as the bell went, each of them trying to locate the young boy that had dominated their thoughts for the past five days. And suddenly she was there, standing behind Ryan.

"Ryan?" she asked, almost afraid.

Ryan turned in surprise and Kirsten let out a small gasp, holding her hand to her mouth, "Oh my god" she said kneeling, tears springing to the sides of her eyes, "What did she do to you?" she nearly whispered, taking his chin in her fingers.

He flinched slightly at her movement, which made it all the more sad.

"I fell down the stairs..." he attempted, but Sandy gently put a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Ryan... we're so sorry. We didn't..."

"It's not your fault" Ryan snapped, then stopped eyes widening, "Sorry" he whispered.

"Ryan!" another voice demanded. This one was shrill, stressed and angry. This one made Ryan's head throb and body flinch. He turned.

"Mom?" he asked.

"What are you doing talking to them?" she demanded, finally nearing him and grabbing his sore arm. He let out a small hiss of pain and pulled his arm back away from her.

"They were just _here_ mom" he replied, disgusted. He could smell the liquor on her breath and see the wildness of her eyes. The small pupils that indicated what was likely to be a coccaine high. One glance at Kirsten and Sandy and he could see that they both saw it too.

Sandy moved in to a protective stance of Kirsten who had raised herself from a kneeling position. She was trembling... livid with rage.

"Stay away from my son" Dawn snapped at the two of them, then tugged on Ryan's arm again, "Let's go, Ryan" she demanded.

"Ryan, you don't have to go with her" Kirsten blurted out.

Sandy looked at him, "She's right kid. We can call the police and-"

"Send me to foster care?" Ryan asked quietly, "No thanks. She's my mom. I have to go"

"Ryan. Now!" Dawn screamed from five feet away. Around him Ryan could feel other kids beginning to stare. He could even see a few of the monitoring teachers begin to work their way over.

Ryan shot one more glance at Kirsten and Sandy before turned and jogging towards the car, following after his mother.

"Sandy, that woman is _drunk_ and she is _driving_." Kirsten stressed.

"I know honey... I'm calling the police right now. I think it's obvious Ryan doesn't know what's best for him"

"He knows, but she's still his mother." Kirsten whispered more to herself than anyone.

At the curb Dawn's Chevy Nova started up with a roar and pulled out in to the street, nearly missing a group of kids crossing it. The horn blared as she slammed on the brakes.

Kirsten grabbed Sandy's arm and began dragging him towards their BMW sitting at the curb.

"Where are we going?" Sandy asked, letting himself be pulled along while attempting to dial a number in to the cellphone.

"I'm following them" Kirsten told him, not offering any further explanation.

She had just unlocked the doors and glanced up in the direction Dawn was headed when she saw the crash. Heard the crash. Kirsten's hand gripped tightly on the door handle, her feet frozen to the spot she was in. Around her she could hear the sounds of people gasping and muttering but it all seemed muted. At least until Sandy met her around the side of the car and told her he was calling nine-one-one.

000000000000000000

Hey guys, the end of another chapter. No... I'm not sorry for leaving it like this :) Not really, it makes you all review more!


	5. Five

**A/N: ** Hey guys, sorry this took awhile. I actually meant to have this posted a couple days ago. I won't offer an excuse because... well... they don't matter anyways, right? Anyways, I'd like to thank you all for your reviews, they really do keep me going, special thanks to those who have been with me from the beginning of my O.C. stories. I would also like to say that (as a negative in relation to the story ) I'm Canadian. This means that technicalities such as sentencing, offence terms, adoption/foster situations/guidelines may be somewhat different to those in California. For that I apologize.

And just as a side note ( To those of you who questioned ), I do realise that if a child shows up at school with signs of abuse the employees of that school are pretty much obligated to report it to authorities, however, I also know that some inspections and investigations are performed/judged improperly and many times the child remains with family until multiple investigations are filed (resulting from multiple reports). Abuse is also hard to prove if the child refuses to say anything other than "I fell off my bike" or some crap like that. My assumption of Ryan's character is that he still loves his mother and doesn't want her to be taken off to jail nor be removed from her custody (When you don't know any better you generally find a way to blame yourself for what's happened) and that in most circumstances he will not say anything to either police/teachers or case workers indicating otherwise. Stupid, or rather uninformed, decision on the child's part as well as the county's, but it does happen. Trust me.

I don't mean to be rude or blunt but "The System" is definitely not perfect.

Okay, enough blabbering, and on with the story...

**Morning After**

Chapter Five

With a sudden swirl the noise around Kirsten seemed to re-renter her head as though someone had just unmuted a television, yet the picture seemed to be frozen. No one seemed to move towards nor away from the accident, they all seemed lost in their own mutterings and conversation.

She was the first to make a move in the direction of the accident, Sandy following in stride while others trailed hesitantly. By the time she was half way to the accident Kirsten found herself running best she could in her low heeled pumps. It wasn't easy, but for now at least she ignored the pain lancing through her legs and ankles, as well as the likely chance of a sprained ankle.

Her eyes were frozen to the old Chevy Nova which had plowed over the curb and been stopped by a cement telephone pole. Steam rose from the crumpled blue hood, the hissing of pressure escaping now audible in the oddly quiet street. From her location Kirsten could spot a flat tire and a puddle escaping from under the stopped vehicle, all the windows on the car cracked from the impact.

Sandy had nearly reached the car, following behind Kirsten, when the driver's door swung open with a squeak. A blonde touseled looking woman, Dawn, emerged from the broken vehicle and looked around wildly taking in the scene. She was brushing glass bits from herself with dazed eyes when Kirsten grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Where's Ryan?" she demanded.

Sandy couldn't tear his eyes away from the two women. The look on Kirsten's face was more fierce and angry than any he'd ever seen in his years of being her husband.

"Ryan?" Dawn asked, blinking.

Kirsten physically forced her aside so she could glance in the front seats, Sandy's eyes followed to see what she was seeing.

A breath of relief escaped him as he saw Ryan crawling across the front seats to remove himself from the car. Kirsten's arms were wrapped around Ryan before the kid had even managed to emerge from the wreck, taking both Ryan and Sandy in surprise. After an initial flinch he saw the boy relax in Kirsten's tight embrace, letting her remove him carefully from the car.

It was only when Dawn heard the approaching sirens she began to nervously pace the scene of the accident. She was blowing in to her palms ignoring bystanders, including her own son, when the first police car arrived on the scene. Immediately she stopped pacing and dropped her hands to her sides.

Ignoring the officer's question she rushed to explain the situation.

Her excuse? Surprise, surprise. Her son had grabbed the steering wheel and she'd lost control.

"Is everyone here okay?" The officer repeated the question again. Sandy could see knowledge paint the officer's face as he smelt Dawn's breath.

"Everyone's fine. Just shaken up" Sandy answered him, taking a step closer and glancing to the side. Kirsten was now sitting on the curb holding a shocked looking Ryan.

"You are?" the officer adressed Sandy, who snapped back to attention as well as lawyer-mode.

"Sandy Cohen. I called the accident in after it happened."

"Did you see what happened?" the officer asked, nodding his head for his partner to interview Dawn.

"I didn't, but my wife did. I just heard it and looked up... I was in the midst of calling the police when it happened"

"You were calling the police prior to the accident? What for?" the officer inquired, looking up from his note pad.

"To report a drunk driver and suspected abuse."

"Of this lady?"

Sandy nodded.

"Okay. I'm going to need you to stick around for a bit, okay? We'll need a statement and contact information from both you and your wife"

"Of course" Sandy agreed, stepping to the side to sit with his wife and Ryan who was being checked out by an EMT.

From where the three of them were situated on the curb Sandy had perfect view of everything. He just didn't absorb that Ryan also had a perfect view of everything. That was, until the police officers had Dawn complete a breathalyzer test and then proceeded to arrest her.

Ryan stood up, slipping out from under Kirsten's arm. In under three seconds he was at his mother's side where an officer was leading her to the back of a squad car.

"Mom!" Ryan asked. Unable to get a valid response he repeated the cry, a little more desperate. Dawn looked up and met his scared blue eyes with her reddened ones.

"What's happening? Where are you going?"

"Son, could you step out of the way please" The officer requested gently.

Ryan redirected his line of questioning, "Where are you taking her? You can't take her! She didn't do anything, she didn't hurt anyone!" he changed to pleading.

The arresting officer shared a begging glance with his partner who appeared at Ryan's side, gently grasping his shoulder to lead him away.

Violently Ryan grabbed the man's wrist and threw it off of him, he turned to face him. "Where is she going? Where am I supposed to go!" he demanded.

Ryan was confused. And worried. Amongst a million other things. His mom couldn't leave, what were him and Trey supposed to do? Supposed to stay? Trey had warned him of this since he'd been old enough to understand it. Never say anything bad against mom, or they would take her away and they'd end up in foster care. Trey had promised him foster care was ten times worse than what home was like.

He'd never said anything, so why were they taking her away now? Even as the questions appeared in his head, the rational part of his mind knew the answers. Because she was drunk, because she'd been driving while she was drunk, and she'd crashed. Trey and him would go in to the system until they were eighteen. Seven years away for Ryan, two for Trey.

It was the rational half of his mind that allowed the police officer to lead him away from his mother successfully this time, but his eyes were still following what was happening right next to him.

His life was being torn apart, and for some reason Ryan could feel nothing but numbness to the realization.

It was a woman's voice that finally ripped Ryan from his reverie. "What's going to happen?"

His eyes shifted from the street his mother had been taken away from to the wreckage she had left behind, then to the owner of the demanding voice. He found Kirsten standing beside him, her hand intertwined with Sandy's. Her face seemed to be tired but lively. Livid almost.

The officer, Grant Parker Ryan thought he'd introduced himself as, studied Kirsten seemingly shocked because of her avid interest.

"Mrs. Atwood will remain in police custody until her bail hearing at which time a bail can be posted and she can be released on probation until her sentencing."

"Not her. What happens to Ryan?" Kirsten demanded.

The officer's face fell, "Unfortunately due to family circumstances it's likely he will be taken in to a group home until his mother is able to care for him again. Unless of course a relative is willing to take him in."

"Them. There are two boys, both underage." Sandy interrupted, remembering the aforementioned Trey. He opened his mouth to ask the officer about other placement possibilities but Kirsten beat him to it.

"What if there are other options available to the boys?" she asked, glancing at Sandy who raised his thick brows in surprise.

"You would have to speak to their assigned case worker for that. I really don't know much about it, sorry"

"And when can I meet his case worker?" Kirsten continued her line of questioning impatiently.

"I'm not sure"

"Do you know anything?" Kirsten snapped, immediately drawing her hand to her mouth in surprise, "I'm sorry, I just -"

The officer smiled gently, "It's okay. We get that a lot. I'm not positive but I'm assuming he will get a worker later today, maybe tomorrow morning if they're backed up."

"What about until then? Where's he supposed to go?"

"In to the care of a relative or family friend, do you by chance know of any? The kid isn't particularly talkative"

"Because you keep referring to me as the kid" Ryan muttered under his breath loud enough for Sandy, the closest, to hear. He smiled and patted Ryan lightly on the back

"They'll stay with us, I gave my contact information to your partner already." Sandy looked to his wife who offered a nod of approval.

00000000000000000000000

Nearly two hours, numerous phonecalls and visits to shared friends later, Ryan was sitting the back seat of the Cohens' BMW with his brother Trey on their way to Newport Beach.

Trey had neither been happy nor sad when Ryan had finally managed to hunt him down and inform him of the days' events. Instead the sixteen year old appeared rather angry and hadn't spoken a word since agreeing to go with Ryan to the Cohens' house.

It was a rather quiet and unsettling drive. No one knew exactly what to say and the silences were just as awkward, Trey's apparent mood didn't seem to help the atmosphere either. It was a relief to both Ryan and the Cohens as Sandy pulled up the last stretch of road to the gated entrance and passed through with a nod to the security guard.

The feeling of familiarity and what to expect was even more welcoming that the smell of dinner cooking, but it wasn't until Ryan inhaled the aroma of a roast that he realised how hungry he really was. Beside him he could hear Trey take a deep whiff of the air as well, yet they both still stood at the entrance to the house clutching their backpacks full of clothes.

"You guys hungry?" Kirsten turned to ask them both tentativly.

Ryan looked to Trey as if awaiting an answer, finally getting it at Trey's nod of his head. "Starved" Trey replied, speaking for the first time they'd picked him up.

"You can both leave your bags here, Rosa will take them to your rooms... I was thinking Trey, since your older if you wanted to stay in the poolhouse..." Kirsten countered nervously. She seemed to desire his approval or acceptance.

"Sure" Trey replied evenly without a thank you or missing a beat.

His brother's ignorance of appropriate mannerisms was what made Ryan the most nervous. He found himself chewing at his bottom lip more than once at the dinner table, idly pondering Trey's not-so-decent history with the people around him. Moods weren't the only thing to swing around Trey, fists were known to occaisionally play a part too. Ryan made it a point to make sure he spoke with Trey about his behaviour, at least while they were with the Cohens.

They had been nothing but nice to Ryan, and he didn't want to repay them by screwing things up. Not to mention it was a basic survival instinct. He knew he had no where else to go, no where else to live. Trey at least had a few friends with their own places, somewhere he could crash for a night or two.

He supposed he could crash at Theresa' for a day or so, but her mother sure the hell wouldn't let him stay. He was another mouth to feed, and Eva was a single mother with enough struggles to support her own family.

Ryan had nowhere else to go except foster care.

It was because of this worry that Ryan had basically become his brother's shadow overnight. Trey had indeed stayed in the poolhouse for the night, it was apparent in the way his few clothes lay strewn across everything in it.

Trey had woken to find Ryan quietly cleaning up after him just before six-thirty in the morning.

"What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Cleaning your mess" Ryan shot back angrily. He couldn't help it. Trey should see what Sandy and Kirsten were trying to do for them, that they were trying to help, to make things a little bit better. Trey shouldn't be messing up their place.

"It doesn't need cleaning, it's fine. Go back to bed." Trey snapped, closing his eyes again and pressing his palms to his forehead.

Ryan stopped his cleaning and walked over to the King size bed, grasping a clear and empty bottle. He didn't say a word until Trey finally cracked open an eye to glare at him.

"Where'd you get it?" Ryan demanded, holding the bottle up.

"Chill bro. I nicked it from Jose's place before I left"

Ryan glared at him, "You're lying"

"How the fuck would you know?" Trey exploded reaching over and grabbing the bottle out of Ryan's hand. In one swift movement he threw it agains the floor, shattering the bottle in to a thousand little pieces.

Instead of answering Ryan glared his brother down with his warning look, "I warned you last night to -"

"Be nice to them, and it's bullshit. They're only doing this as their good deed for the year Ryan. I told you _that_ last night. As soon as the case worker calls and makes arrangements it's off to foster care we go."

"They're trying to help!" Ryan pointed out.

Trey shook his head, "No Ryan. They don't care. People like this can't care, it's in their genes or something. They probably want to do this as some sort of popularity stunt between their neighbours and country club members. I'm not going to spend this time kissing their ass so they can feel good about themselves even after they dump us!"

Ryan stared down at his brother, wondering when exactly it had been that his and Trey's relationship had turned in such a drastic direction. He could distinctly remember a few of their younger moments when it had been them against the world. Now he couldn't even side with his own brother, couldn't talk to him or get through to him. Instead of offering a useless reply Ryan turned on his heel and left the poolhouse altogether, storming across the patio and in to the kitchen where he silently slid the door closed behind him.

He stood for a moment in the cool air conditioning and surveyed the kitchen.

Trey didn't know anything. They were trying to help him, weren't they? They hadn't had to take them both in a second time, they could have just left after the police had interviewed them both for their statements. But they had both remained, Kirsten had even hugged him a couple times and sat with her arm around him, lips pressed to the top of his head.

And they had been there to begin with. In Chino, checking up on him. They didn't have to do that to look good.

Trey was wrong this time. He knew it.

He finally decided it really didn't matter much. What did matter was that he had enjoyed his week end here, and he was going to enjoy the rest of his time here as well. Whether they ditched him afterwards without a backwards look or not.

Silently Ryan made his way across the kitchen and began getting out required ingredients to whip up a decent breakfast. He could still remember why the aroma of bacon cooking made him so happy.

For seven years of his younger life Ryan had awoken to the smell of his father, Dave, smoking in the kitchen and cooking bacon for breakfast. He'd missed it so much after moving from Fresno that Ryan had made it a point to wake early on week ends and prepare a family breakfast, whether anyone was around for it or not. Whether his mom was still hung over and sick to her stomach or not.

"Do I smell bacon?" a voice inquired from the living room direction, "Sandy, you didn't have to -" to voice continued, cutting off until Kirsten came in to view of who was really cooking breakfast in their kitchen.

"Ryan?" she asked, sounding surprised.

Ryan turned hesitantly, "I'm sorry to mess up your stuff... I just wanted to -"

"You shouldn't be cooking breakfast!" she exclaimed.

He backed up in to the cupboard, dropping the fork he'd been using to flip the bacon. It clattered to the floor.

"Kirsten?" Sandy questioned, entering the kitchen as well, "Are you near the stove... Ryan?" he asked.

"I'm sorry" Ryan rushed to apologize.

Sandy glanced at Kirsten confused, then back to Ryan. "Don't be sorry... I just wasn't expecting you to cook breakfast"

"Sandy!" Kirsten interupted, "Ryan's just a kid, he shouldn't be near the stove! What if there were a fire!"

"Fire's only happen when you're cooking" he teased her gently, "Kirsten, relax. Ryan just wanted to do something nice, didn't you Ry?"

Ryan nodded, bending over quickly to snatch up the fork he'd dropped.

"But -"

"But next time you want to do something nice that involves a fire risk, you should let one of us supervise you" Sandy added, pleasing his wife as well as Ryan. With a quick kiss on the cheek Sandy approached Ryan's handywork. With a devilish grin on his face he turned back to Kirsten, "Looks edible"

"Sandy!" Kirsten scowled.

"It's okay honey. Not everyone was made to slave in a kitchen... or even make sandwiches.."

"What's wrong with my sandwich's!" she demanded, hands on her hips now.

"Well..." Sandy teased her a bit more.

"You're supposed to put peanut butter on both sides mom. I've told you that just about a million times..." Seth wandered in to the kitchen rubbing at his eyes.

"Peanut butter and jam is peanut butter and jam!"

Seth made a noise in his throat, "Not true. See mom, if you put the PB on both sides then the jam doesn't get soaked up in to the bread."

It was Kirsten's turn to let a grunt escape her throat but was interrupted by a welcome sound.

Laughing.

Ryan stood, face red and smile wide, laughing from behind his hands. It was such a beautiful sight Kirsten turned to look at Sandy, smile lighting her face. She found her husband with the same glowing pride registered across his face as well.

It was that moment that Kirsten realised how well the four of them just seemed to fit. Like a puzzle, like it always had been, only better. The rift between Sandy and Seth was noticeably shrinking and even the one between herself and Sandy. Suddenly when she looked at him, she didn't seen Ryan the troubled and troubling kid. She just saw Ryan the kid. The innocence and the longing. The maturity and wisdom. The calm of his deep blue eyes and the light of his smile.

She continued to gaze at this child's seemingly new enlightenment through breakfast and even after when he'd insisted on cleaning up the dishes. Kirsten also found herself being drawn closer to Seth as he slowly emerged from his unconfident shell.

Her son, for the first time in over a year, was on speaking terms with both her and Sandy at the same time. For the first time in a couple years he wasn't throwing a fit over the simplest of disagreements, and for the first time in awhile Kirsten wasn't thinking that her family needed some form of shock therapy or counselling.

It made her nearly want to smack Sandy upside the head when he let out a few simple words that seemed to shatter the boys' moods.

"Where's Trey?"

Ryan, who had been in the midst of trying to persuade Seth to help him with the dishes, froze like a deer in headlights, his smile disappearing instantly.

"He didn't feel well this morning" Ryan spat out quickly. It wasn't exactly a lie, he was sure Trey had one hell of a hangover this morning. He just wasn't about to ante up the reason.

"Oh... I hope he's okay, maybe I should check on him .." Kirsten began.

"No!" Ryan exclaimed. He hadn't yet bothered to clean up the broken glass everywhere, he hadn't even managed to situate things back in to their original places.

The three Cohens eyed him intensely, "He really doesn't like being bothered by people when he's sick... not strangers"

At the 's' word Ryan saw Kirsten's face fall a little. But that was something he couldn't help, because even through all of this the Cohens were still somewhat strangers to both he and Trey.

"I'll go check on him" Ryan offered solemnly, wishing in part he had managed to catch his words better. Stacking the last plate in to the dishwasher Ryan quietly left the kitchen, well aware that his words had been somewhat of a a blow, at least to Kristen.

The pool house, as it turned out, was in no better shape than when he had stormed angrily from it this morning. It did however, look as though Trey had been up and about as the clothes Ryan had stuffed back in to Trey's backpack had magically appeared all over the floor again.

He let out a sigh and stood in the doorway for a moment surveying the scene. He could feel the hot sun beginning to rise in the sky and heat up his shoulders and neck, could hear the waves crash against the beach and the gulls scream for more food.

Ryan forced himself in to the poolhouse, managing to avoid much of the mess and cut straight to the broken shards of glass. If the Cohens saw the remnants of a broken Crown bottle they'd be sure to examine whatever collection they had. Ryan's guess was that they would find at least one missing, enough cause to leave them both at social services' doorstep.

His first priority was put on hold temporarily while Ryan scoured the place for a garbage pail. He finally located one and began to carefully pick up the small fragments to toss them in the trash when he sensed someone behind him.

_please just be Seth. He coudl convince Seth to keep it quiet._

No such luck. He turned to find Sandy standing over Ryan's crouching figure and surveying the room. A slice of fear filled his stomach momentarily, but he managed to get himself to relax. If Sandy wanted to hit him for this, then it was well deserved, wasn't it? He had lied to them, he had covered for his inept brother.

Ryan said nothing but stood slowly and awkwardly, dropping the last bits of glass in to the pail.

"Looks kind of like Seth's room before Rosa gets to it" Sandy cracked a smile.

Ryan tentativly smiled back. He'd been fooled like this before, in to trusting or relaxing and then _wham_ there it was.

Sandy's eyes fell to Trey's unmoving form, then to the contents of the small stylish trash can. "Sick, huh?"

"I'm sorry" Ryan hung his head, "I just didn't want him to get in trouble..."

"I can understand that" Sandy replied, but then shrank down to Ryan's level and lifted his chin. "I can understand it, but I don't necessarily respect it. Ryan, Trey has to learn to deal with his own consequences. You shouldn't be having to clean up after him and cover for him..."

"He didn't want me to.." Ryan interrupted.

Sandy smiled, then shrugged, "why were you cleaning it all up then? Were you going to lie about the alcohol when we found it missing too? Let me guess, you'd just say you did it, spare Trey the trouble? Tell me Ryan, why sacrafice yourself for someone who doesn't know nor care what you're trying to do for them?"

It was Ryan's turn to shrug.

When Sandy didn't reply but waited for something more of an answer Ryan hesitated, "Because... he's family. I... you can't yell at Trey he just ignores you... I didn't want any more trouble for you and Kirsten."

Sandy snorted, "Do you think Kirsten and I would take you two in without knowing _and accepting_ the risks?"

Ryan shrugged again. "Trey can be.."

"Ryan" Sandy interrupted and waited for the boy too look up at him. "You don't have to make excuses for anyone while you're here. And you don't need to try and cover for anyone here. No buts." he finished.

Ryan nodded.

"So when we deal with Trey, I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Am.. am I in trouble?"

Sandy hesitated, "I think you had the best intentions, so I'll let you get away with it this once, now why don't you go in the house while I sit and have a chat with your brother."

Ryan nodded and set down the garbage pail, when he reached to door Ryan looked back to Sandy who was still watching him, "Are you... are we... are you kicking us out?"

"No, Ryan. But I'm not sure if you guys can stay here permanantly either. Lets just wait and see what our options are, okay?"

Ryan nodded and escaped to the outside. No matter how many times he saw the view from back here Ryan couldn't get over the beauty of it and the exhileration he received just from hearing and smelling the ocean.

He wasn't sure exactly what had been said to Trey, but Ryan knew it hadn't been good. It looked as though his brother wasn't just angry, but sulking now as well. He wouldn't meet Ryan's eyes, nor would he speak to anyone except to say "please" and "thank you" at lunch. In fact, it wasn't until after lunch that Ryan discovered exactly why Trey was sulking around while him and Seth were running around the pool wildly.

It had been Sandy's idea, getting ice cream down at the pier, walking along the beach to get there. Trey hadn't bothered to come, and had only seemed angry when Ryan had suggested that he did.

"Why didn't your brother come?" Seth asked Ryan, licking at the sides of his quickly melting ice cream.

"I dunno" Ryan supplied in answer, but he was looking at Sandy.

"Trey has been grounded for eight hours" Sandy told them both evenly.

Ryan seemed to be the most surprised at this. He stopped quickly widening his eyes, "Really? You... you grounded Trey?"

Sandy nodded.

"He listened?" Ryan double checked.

"So far" Sandy finished off his own cone.

Ryan stared at Sandy in disbelief. He couldn't remember the last time that either he or Trey had been punished using a non-physical action. "Why eight hours?" Ryan challenged.

"Well, I don't know how long you guys are going to be here, so I figure it's a long enough period all things considered."

It was at this point that Seth's good mood evaporated. He fell back in to a sulk at the though of Ryan having to leave again, leaving him here in Newport against Luke all alone.

By the time the trio got back to the house where Kirsten had remained to keep an eye on Trey, none of them were particularly talking. At least not until Kirsten managed to introduce Catherine, the woman who would be Ryan and Trey's case worker.

It was at this point when Ryan and Sandy's good moods seemed to disappear as well.


	6. Chapter 6

**Morning After**

A/N: Hey guys. Wow, it's been a long time since I've written anything here. A very long time. Anyway…I dunno. I kinda got bored and finally decided to give this story another go I guess. It's almost like resurrecting the dead…Anyway, enjoy, if you're still reading it.

As always, don't forget to review. You know I love 'em J

Disclaimer: Okay Josh. You know it, I know it. Everyone knows it. I don't own 'em…just takin' 'em for a ride.

**Chapter Six**

The meeting with the social worker seemed to go well enough, at least as far as Ryan was concerned. Trey and himself had managed to buy another slice of time with the Cohens, short as it may be.

"_How long should we tell them they'll be here for?" Kirsten asked nervously._

_"... until Dawn appears before a judge for sentencing of her convictions...Could be days, could be weeks, depends on how many other cases he's handling, the availability of a public defender… Also, I'm sure the judge will take the children in to consideration when making his decision about Dawn's case, however you should begin to prepare Trey and Ryan for the possibility that their mother will be serving a period of time in a state correctional facility..."_

Ryan, Trey and Seth had all been eavesdropping from the stairs at that point, just out of sight from Kirsten, Sandy and Catherine.

While Trey had tensed up at the word "serving," Ryan had always considered it a possibility of her actions. He wasn't dumb, he knew that if you did something wrong, you were punished. Like their dad had been. Like their dad was right now. As soon as he'd seen her taken away in handcuffs after the accident, the scenario had played out in his mind. To be honest, Ryan wasn't sure of what he wanted. In prison people could change, people _did_ change; for better or worse.

Dawn could use some change, for her own sake, as well as Trey's and Ryan's.

On the other hand, Dawn was still his mother; still _their _mother and nothing would change that. If she were to be sentenced to prison, it meant he and his brother would be considered wards of the state, at very least until Dawn was released.

His thoughts were even more muddled now than they were the first morning he'd woken at the Cohen's house.

"Ryan?" a voice interrupted his stray thoughts.

Ryan glanced up from where he was sitting at the coffee table in the living room. Seth and Trey were focused intently on the program that had been turned on, filling their mouths absentmindedly with pizza: The Cohen's celebratory dinner, kids' choice.

He found Kirsten and Sandy both staring at him worriedly.

"Yeah?" he asked tentatively.

"Are you okay?" Kirsten asked, a motherly tone overtaking her voice.

"Yeah. Fine. Why?"

"You haven't touched your pizza, kid. If you take any longer I'm sure Seth'll have it devoured before you can touch it"

Ryan glanced down to where a solitary slice of pizza was spread across the plate in front of him. At the mere sight of food Ryan's stomach seemed to lurch apprehensively. He pushed the plate forwards towards Seth and stood up from the table, "Not hungry" he shrugged, silently excusing himself from the room.

With a worried glance to Sandy Kirsten set down her plate to get up and follow. From the floor Trey was watching from the corner of his eye. Sandy put his hand up and handed Kirsten his plate of pizza, "I'll go... Maybe he'll talk to me."

Kirsten nodded and took his plate, watching her husband disappear from the room.

0.0.0.0.0.0.

"Ryan?" Sandy knocked apprehensively at the door to the boy's room. There was no response but the door swung open a little further.

"Ryan? Are you feeling okay? You want to talk about it?" Sandy pushed the door further open to reveal an empty room.

"Mr. Cohen?" Ryan asked from behind Sandy. Sandy jumped around, restraining himself from raising his hand to his chest. "Ryan, there you are, where'd you go?"

"Washroom" Ryan shrugged.

"You okay? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine" Ryan replied, brushing past him to go sit on the bed.

"Ryan…" Sandy trailed after the boy, sitting beside him. "What's goin' on kid?"

"I… I don't know."

"Ryan, I know this can't be easy for you, or for Trey, but-"

"But what?" A voice demanded from the doorway.

Ryan looked up to find his brother standing there, angrily.

"Hi Trey, you looking for something?"

"Yeah, my brother."

"You want to join us?" Sandy offered, patting the bed. "We could all figure this out together.

"I've already figured it out, Mr. Cohen. And I've been trying to tell Ryan about it, but he doesn't seem to wanna listen. He believes you've come to save us from our mother, what he doesn't understand is that we _don't need saving._"

"Trey, I can understand your anger, in part, but-"

"You don't understand anything, or you'd have just left well-enough alone. Did you tell Ryan that you're the one responsible for lodging an abuse complaint against our mother? Did you know that Ryan?"

"Trey, what your mother does to you guys-"

"Is none of your goddamn business!"

"Do not talk to me like that in my own house, please Trey."

"What're you gonna do? Ground me again? Well go ahead. You aren't my father, Kirsten's not my mother. I don't want to be here, but now I don't have a choice, thanks to you!"

Sandy sat motionless, speechless, until Trey stormed from the doorway, then slowly rose from the bed.

He reached to doorway before Ryan spoke up. "Mr. Cohen?"

Sandy turned.

"He'll calm down. He's just mad…About things. About everything. He thinks you guys are just doing this to show off to your friends or something…"

Sandy inhaled sharply, and came back to sit beside Ryan. "Is that what you think?"

Ryan studied the comforter of his bed intently, picking off the non-existent lint. "I dunno."

"Ryan. We aren't doing this to look good. We're doing this because we care. About you, about Trey. Even about your mom. She needs help, Ryan. She needs to figure out her life. I know if sucks, I know it's rough, but if she can't look after herself, she can't look after you."

"I can look after me. And Trey."

He felt Sandy's hand reach around his shoulder, but didn't flinch away. It felt right, it felt good, to have someone here for him, like this. Listening, talking, comforting.

"You shouldn't have to look after yourself Ryan. Or Trey. You're eleven years old, you're still a kid."

Ryan glanced up, meeting Sandy's eyes. He could see they were watery, could see that he cared. He wanted to say _yes_ so badly. He wanted to agree, say that he shouldn't have to look after anyone. But he couldn't.

"I should go find Trey, try talking to him." Ryan didn't wait for an answer, but hopped off the bed and left Sandy sitting there, head bowed.

0.0.0.0.0.0.

"Trey?" Ryan knocked on the pool house door. There was no answer, but he walked in anyways. Trey looked up from where he stood, bending over a backpack.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, closing the door behind him.

"What's it look like?"

"You're leaving?"

"Why not?"

"What did he do to you? What did I do to you?" Ryan demanded.

"_He_, doesn't know anything. He doesn't know us Ryan, he doesn't care!"

"He does too, Trey! I saw it! He cares, and so does Kirsten!"

"About you maybe, but not me. I'm too much trouble for them, so I'm leaving before they kick me out."

"They won't, Trey. They won't kick you out! You just have to be nice back. You just have to try!"

Trey tossed his backpack back on the bed. "Oh come on Ry. You and me, we grew up together. You know the Atwood luck, you know it won't last! Why do you even try? Now go get your stuff, we're leaving. We'll take a taxi back to Chino, you can stay with Theresa for awhile. I'm sure Eva will let you."

"Where will you go?"

"Chad's maybe, or Gary's place."

Ryan's fists tightened at his sides. "You'd rather go to _Gary's_ place than stay here?"

"I'd rather stay with people who _care_."

"Gary doesn't care, Trey. He just wants you to do his dirty work. You told me that!"

"Stop it, Ryan! Go get your stuff."

"How are we gonna pay for the taxi?" Ryan whispered.

Trey smiled at him for the first time that night, and pulled a wad of twenties from the front of his pack. "We're not, the Cohens are."

"You stole-"

"Get your damn stuff, Ryan! I'm leaving in ten minutes. If you aren't with me when the taxi comes, don't bother trynna look me up when they throw ya out."

Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat. Trey had stolen. From the Cohens, of all people.

_He's your brother. You have to go._

"You comin'?" Trey asked, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"I'll meet you out front." Ryan replied, dropping his head for a moment.

Trey clapped him on the back, heartily, as he walked past. "Ten minutes kid."

Ryan nodded, and turned towards the house, closing the pool house door behind him.

0.0.0.0.0.0.

Trey threw himself down on the cement curb, glancing back at the house to make sure he was hidden from sight. He was, courtesy of a brick pillar at the end of the Cohens' driveway. Digging through his jean pocket he removed a pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter. First thing he had to do back in Chino was get another pack.

Sol would probably sell to him. He usually did, unless Trey got mouthy with him. If all else failed, he could probably con Gary into getting him a pack, for a price.

"I'm _not_ going mom. You can't make me!" a girl's voice split through the dark.

"You're going, young lady. Now get in this house or I'll-"

"What? Ground me? Go ahead, I don't care. I'm not going, and you can't make me."

"Get in this house. You're making a fool of yourself. The neighbors will overhear."

Trey snickered to himself, craning his neck to try and see the action, but it was blocked.

"Not until you say I don't have to go."

Trey shuffled himself further over on the curb, peeking around the corner, to see a young girl standing in the middle of the driveway, arms crossed over her chest in anger. A woman, whom he assumed to be this girl's mother stood about ten feet in front of her.

"Sweetie. You have a problem; I'm just trying to help."

"No mom. You _think_ I have a problem. I don't."

"Come back in the house, and we'll talk about this."

"You mean you'll send me to my room until tomorrow and drag me kicking and screaming to the shrink."

Trey could see the surprise etched on the mother's face. He could tell that had been exactly what she'd been thinking.

"I thought so. Bye mom. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Oh, so now you're running away? Where are you gonna go? Summer's in Bora Bora with her dad."

"I'll find somewhere. Long as I'm away from you." With that, the young girl whipped around and started walking quickly down the driveway towards him. Trey pulled himself back around the corner, sitting himself back by the Cohens' driveway. He inhaled deeply off his cigarette as the girl rounded the corner.

She let out a noise of surprise, and promptly flushed red once she realized he'd probably overheard.

Trey smiled, gestured to the curb beside him with his head. "You want a smoke?"

"I'm eleven."

"So?"

The girl studied him for a moment, and promptly sat. Trey handed her his pack of smokes and his bic, which she took, awkwardly.

"I'm Marissa Cooper." She offered, fumbling with the lighter.

Trey took the lighter from her, cupped his hand around it, and lit it. Marissa leaned in, lit her smoke, and promptly began coughing. Trey snickered to himself.

"So who are you?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Trey stared at her for a moment, thinking. "Whoever you want me to be."

0.0.0.0.0.0.

A/N: That's it for now, folks. Review if you want more, or I'll just let it drop.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: The O.C. and all its characters belong to Josh. I own nothing, don't sue….I have nothing to give you.

0o0o0o0o0o0o

Ryan entered through the back kitchen carefully, pulling the door until it was almost closed behind him, but not enough to make noise. He could hear Seth still laughing in the next room, probably still going at his play station. Kirsten's giggle was followed by a chuckle, Sandy's, and Ryan knew he was safe.

Slowly he inched towards the hallway.

"Hey kid. How's Trey?"

Ryan jumped at the intrusion, and turned to face Sandy who'd entered the kitchen, bowl in his hand.

"You want some popcorn?" he asked, waving the bowl.

Ryan shook his head no, afraid to open his mouth for fear of blurting out his terrible secret.

'_Trey and I are running away, and Trey stole your money.'_

"You gonna come join us? Did Trey calm down any? I wanted to check on you guys, but I didn't want to intrude."

Ryan nodded his head.

Sandy frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?" he took a step towards him.

"I'm fine." Ryan blurted. "I'm just… I was gonna go grab a blanket and a change of clothes…so I could sleep in the pool house with Trey….We have a lot to talk about." He let out in a rush.

"So he's calmed down? Maybe I should go talk to him."

"No! I mean…he's still a little angry, but I talked him into staying…"

"He was going to leave? I thought he was joking…"

"Trey…Trey doesn't joke about those kinds of things. He doesn't really joke about anything…"

"Okay kid. You go get your stuff, and I'll let everyone know to stay clear of the pool house for the night."

Ryan nodded, inching towards the door.

"But know this, Ryan. This isn't your responsibility. You shouldn't have to look after Trey like this. I'm doing it your way for now, but if it gets out of hand, The Kirsten and I are taking over."

"Okay." Ryan replied.

'_It's already out of hand,' he wanted to scream._

Sandy nodded, patted his shoulder once, and pulled another bag of popcorn out the cupboard. "So we'll see you both in the morning, right?"

"Yeah." Ryan nodded, stepping out of the kitchen.

_See you in the morning._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"My mom thinks I'm anorexic."

"Are you?"

Marissa ripped her eyes away form the burning cigarette and stared at him. "No!"

"Okay. Sorry man. You just look a little-"

"Well I'm not! I eat. And I'm not stupid."

"Never said you were."

"So what's your story anyway? You just like sitting at the bottom or rich people's driveways?"

"I live here. I'm running away."

"Yeah right. Seth Cohen lives there, not you."

"It's true. Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"I don't wanna talk about it. Doesn't matter anymore—"

"Trey?" Ryan's voice split through the dark.

"Over here." Trey replied, standing up and tossing his smoke away as Ryan came around the edge of the driveway. "You came. I didn't think you would."

Ryan looked at his brother for a moment, and then his eyes flicked to Marissa. "You're my brother."

_My brother who steals._

"Yeah, I am." Trey smiled. "You ready?" he nodded to the backpack.

Ryan nodded, again his eyes drifting to Marissa. "Who's that?"

"That's Marissa. Lives next door."

Ryan nodded.

"You know. I'm right here. You could talk _to_ me instead of _about_ me."

Both boys looked at her.

"Let's go." Trey finished, not looking at his brother.

"Where are you guys going?"

"Away." Trey replied. "Have fun with your…mom. Ry, we should probably catch the taxi down at the gate, in case the Cohens come out here to check."

Ryan nodded in agreement, tearing his eyes away from Marissa. "Let's go."

"Hey…" Marissa paused. "Do you think I could…Do you think I could come?"

Trey laughed. "We ain't stayin' here. We're goin' back to Chino. They'll eat you alive there."

Marissa set her shoulders. "It's better than being here."

Ryan looked at his brother, whom he could tell was contemplating it. "No."

Bother Trey and Marissa looked at him in surprise.

"You can't come. Trey, tell her she can't come."

Trey nodded, "Ry's right. You can't come." He turned to leave.

Marissa folded her arms across her chest as Ryan looked on.

"Come on Ryan, let's go."

"Just a minute. I'll meet you down there."

"Ryan."

"Just a minute!" Ryan snapped.

Trey mumbled an answer, and took off down the street.

Ryan stared at this girl as the silence around them resumed. Scratch that, there wasn't ever silence here. There was always a subtle crashing of waves against the beach. Soothing…

"Look. Whatever's got you so worked up you think you have to run away – "

"My mom wants to send me to a shrink."

Ryan stared.

"She thinks I'm anorexic."

"Just talk to her."

"Talk to my mom? You don't know my mom." She laughed.

"I know you can't run away just because of that."

"And why are you running away?"

Ryan hesitated. "I don't want to."

"Then why are you?"

"It's…complicated. I don't have a choice. Look, I've gotta go. But try talking to her, okay? Try explaining it."

Marissa said nothing as Ryan walked away. She sat down on the curb, watching the embers of the cigarette burn closer to her thumb and forefinger until it finally went out. _Talk to my mom, yeah right._ She forced a laugh, hurting her burning lungs even more. _If only he knew._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Trey pounded his fist against the wooden door, the sound echoing down the dark hallways.

Ryan standing behind him felt as though he'd lost something. And he had. A friend. A potential family. He'd given that up, but being here, with Trey, that's what was right. Trey was his _real _family. His brother, his blood. The Cohens couldn't compete with that, could they?

The wooden door swung open suddenly revealing a chubby kid in a white muscle shirt. "What the hell…?"

"Hey Man, how's it goin'?"

The sweet and pungent smell of weed drifted out the front door, and Ryan held back a sigh. Gary. They'd gone to Gary's. He knew what this meant.

"Trey, man. What's up?"

"Ry and I need a place to crash. Just for a bit. Help us out?"

Ryan looked up, defiantly met Gary's eyes, who seemed to be noticing him for the first time.

"Lemme check with TJ. Come on in."

Ryan perched himself on the arm rest of the couch, staying close to his brother who'd thrown himself across it. Small bags full of weed were spread across the table in front of him, which was chipped and stained.

Gary entered the small room, followed by a taller guy. A man. Tanned and muscular, dark and intimidating. He nodded to Trey. "You gonna help with rent?"

Trey nodded, "You know I will man. This is my little brother Ryan. Ryan, that's TJ. Don't piss 'im off."

"And don't open your mouth, to anyone, about what you see here. Got it?"

Ryan nodded his head in response, too nervous to speak. He'd heard Trey talk about Gary, and about his brother TJ, but he'd never met them. Only heard about them. The beatings, the drugs, the alcohol, it was all bad. He'd told Trey, again and again, to stop going there, here, if it was so bad, but Trey kept returning. And now Ryan was here too. He didn't want to be.

He thought of the Cohens' place. The beach, the park. Even his mother's. He couldn't have any of it now. He'd ruined it. Trey had ruined it.

TJ, after exchanging a quiet conversation with Trey and Gary, left the room. "See man." Trey punched Ryan's shoulder, almost flinging him off the couch. "Told you they'd take care of us, that I'd take care of us. We don't need that rich bunch feeding us and feeling sorry for us until they can get rid of us. This is better. I promise it'll be better. No mom, no Greg. This'll be great."

"Yeah." Ryan replied, looking around the place. The carpet was stained with a variety of different colours, substances. He knew the dime bags held weed, was pretty sure a small mirror on the table had once held coke. Cans of beer were littered across the tables, ashtrays overflowing. He slid down onto the couch and leaned back. "Great."


	8. Chapter 8

Ryan jumped at the pounding on the door. Jumping up from the couch he approached it quietly, trying to catch his breath before he opened it.

"Uh…I think I'm at the wrong place."

Ryan looked up at the guy standing there, almost six feet, stick thin, long brown hair covered with a baseball hat. "You looking for T.J.?" he asked the guy as he took a step backward.

The guy paused at the steps, his face wrapped in the shadow of the night. "Yeah. You know where he's at?"

Ryan jerked his head towards the living room and stepped back.

"I didn't know T.J. and Gary had another brother man, sorry."

"They don't." Ryan replied, not offering an explanation. "How much you need?"

"Half quarter."

Ryan flipped up a couch cushion and grabbed a bag, holding out his hand for payment and staring the guy down. Daring him to say something, daring him to try something.

In the past two weeks Ryan had dealt with his share of morons and people who thought they could rip off a kid – himself – with no repercussions. They'd been wrong. The moment T.J. found out his customers had been giving Ryan problems he'd jumped in his shitbox of a car with his bat to make an example. Ryan hardly believed it was anything to do with the fact they'd actually hurt Ryan, but more to do with the fact they'd ripped T.J. off.

The guy in front of Ryan palmed him the money without hesitation. He'd obviously heard. Ryan tossed the baggie at the guy and locked up behind him as he left. Threw himself onto the couch.

The smelling, putrid couch. His bed. Ryan lay his head against the back, breathing in the smell of smoke – cigarette and otherwise – and something that smelled like rotting milk. He found it hard to believe that two weeks ago he'd been sleeping on silky soft sheets and feather pillows. So had Trey.

Trey. Damn him. He was the reason they were here, stuck in this shithole. You'd think that with the money T.J. brought in – and Ryan _had_ seen him bring in wads of cash – that he could afford a better place, but no. Ryan hadn't even seen Trey at all today. Usually he was in and out of T.J.'s place with Arturo, T.J. and Gary but not today.

_Probably on a bender at some girl's place._

Ryan closed his eyes, wanting sleep but knowing he couldn't. Not until someone else got home to keep an eye on the door. Or an ear. Whatever.

Loud voices standing outside the front door was what stirred Ryan from his nap. Then pounding. Loud, house-rattling pounding. His eyes flew to the window, searching for any indication of flashing lights, of police. Nothing.

"Open the fucking door Ryan."

Ryan jumped from the couch, fumbling with the stiff deadbolt. The door swung open as soon as the tumbler clicked out of place, almost shoving Ryan into the wall. Arturo stumbled in, hard-pressed for walking under Trey's barely-conscious weight.

"What…"

"He's fucked up." Arturo replied, dumping Trey onto the couch. "Grab some ice, some water."

Ryan didn't hesitate.

"What's he on?" Ryan asked, re-entering the room and tossing supplies onto the table.

"Fuck. I dunno. Coke probably. Stupid fucker, I told him not to try any of the shit Gattas was forking out, but you know your brother man. Fucking stubborn as hell and looking for a hit. Couldn't wait for fucking T.J. That son of a bitch probably laced it with a load of home-cooked shit. Gonna fucking kill someone one of these days." Arturo grabbed the wet towels, shoving them around Trey's head and body. He groaned.

"Wake up, you fucker." Arturo slapped Trey on the cheek. Trey didn't move again. "Help me get him to the shower, Ry."

Ryan grabbed his brother under the left armpit, slinging Trey's arm around his own neck. This was great.

Just. Fucking. Great.

0o0o0o0o

Sandy entered the kitchen to find Kirsten slumped at the counter with her robe still on, glass of wine in front of her and head buried in her arms. He inhaled sharply, putting his hands on her shoulders. She brought her head up, wiping at her eyes.

"Hey honey."

Kirsten attempted to smiled, but failed.

"I know how you feel." Sandy said, kissing her on the forehead. "But we'll find him. We will."

"It's been too long, Sandy." Kirsten's voice cracked.

"No. No, it hasn't. Ryan's been taking care of himself for years now. There's no reason to think he isn't doing the same now."

Kirsten shook her head. "On the street Sandy? He's eleven, there's no way…I just know something's happened."

"Nothing's happened. We have the best people working on this."

"If they're the best, why haven't we heard anything about him?" she snapped.

"Them. Trey _and_ Ryan. They're probably trying to stay off the radar. Probably scared, lost. Don't know what to do…" He glanced at his wife, heart breaking. Right now, Sandy would give anything to find Trey and Ryan. To just know they were safe, for Kirsten. Kirsten, who'd been freaking out for the last two weeks. Kirsten who'd cried upon her discovery that the boys were nowhere to be found. Kirsten who hadn't been to work in the past four days, which sadly was the strongest indication there was something _very _wrong.

He would give anything.

0o0o0o0o0o

Kirsten barely felt Sandy's arms around her shoulder. She knew he _cared_, but right now all she was worried about was Ryan. Ryan, the eleven year old who'd somehow brought her family together in the few days he was here. Ryan, who'd somehow brought Seth out of his shell and done the impossible of re-connecting Seth's faith in his father, in himself. Ryan, who'd also shattered her family when he left. Ryan who was lost and hurt and who had no place to go, with only his brother to watch out for him.

Trey. Trey wouldn't watch out for Ryan. She knew that, anyone could see it. They were brothers, but Ryan cared more than Trey. That was shown with the mess in the poolhouse. She didn't trust Trey. Hadn't trusted Trey. Maybe it was his constant silence, his unforgiving glares. Maybe it was simply his attitude, the fact he'd stolen a bottle of Crown the first night here. She knew he'd been through bad times, like Ryan, but somehow he'd come out bitter whereas Ryan had just come out hurt and alone.

She stared at the glass of wine in front of her. The bottle beside it. Half empty. She knew her family needed Ryan back. To be a family again, they needed Ryan. He was the other part of the puzzle. Without him, they were falling apart. Without him, the only way she could face the day was in her bathrobe.

The realization hit her then. She was dependent on an eleven year old. She was putting this on a child the same age as Seth.

She grabbed the glass of red wine, emptying it in one long gulp. Kirsten didn't like being dependent on anyone.

0o0o0o0o0o

Seth slammed the door behind him. His new announcement of arrival. The glass in the door panes shook, and he wished they would break. Maybe it would dispel some of his anger.

He kicked his shoes off, leaving them where they landed, and dropped his backpack in the front hall.

"Seth? That you?"

Seth ignored his father's call, and ran up the stairs. Life in Orange County sucked. He couldn't remember it ever being so bad. It wasn't even that Luke and Nordstrom had taken to peeing in his shoes again. It wasn't that every day after school he was locked in his own locker. It wasn't even that he still couldn't get Summer to say anything except 'ew' to him. It was the fact that his best friend, his only friend, still hadn't been heard from. Had run off into the night without a goodbye, without warning, and left Seth here all alone to face everything.

After finally making a friend, Seth found it was impossible to go back to being friendless, to being a nobody.

0o0o0o0o0o

"Do you need anything else Trey?" Ryan asked his brother.

Trey shook his head from underneath the bed covers.

"You sure?"

"Just fuck off already!"

Ryan, shocked for a moment, stood there until Trey pulled down the covers and glared at him.

"Unless you're gonna give me a fucking fix Ry, you'd better get the fuck outtah here."

Ryan backed from the room, closing the door behind him.

"How's he doin'?" Arturo clapped Ryan on the back.

Ryan shrugged, sat on the couch. Exhausted. Ready to sleep.

"He'll probably be pissed that he can't have a fix for awhile. Best to keep your distance."

_Keep my distance._

Arturo didn't know how right he was. How in the past two weeks he'd thought of calling the Cohens. Somehow, from somewhere. To say what? He didn't know. Maybe to say he was okay, maybe to beg them to come get him. But Ryan couldn't do it. Especially not right now. Trey was his brother. He had to make sure he pulled through this. Had to stay strong. "T.J. back yet?"

"No. Still haven't heard nothin'."

Ryan nodded, stared out the window.

"Why don't you take a nap kid? I'll keep an eye out."

"No. S'okay. I'm fine."

"Kid, you're beat. Theresa will kill me if she found out what state you were in. So would Ma."

Ryan glared. "I don't need them to watch out for me 'Turo. And you'd better not tell them where I am."

"Yeah yeah."

Ryan slumped back into the couch.

"Well, listen. I gotta work in the morning, so if you ain't gonna sleep I'm gonna head home and hit the hay."

"See you."

"Yeah. See you. Stay strong kid. He'll pull through this. We'll pull through this." He clapped Ryan once more on the shoulder and left. Ryan followed him to the door, locking up behind him.

He didn't know if he _wanted_ to pull through this anymore. A part of him just wanted to give up. Walk out, leave everyone. Trey wouldn't stop the drugs. He wouldn't stop the drinking. They certainly wouldn't ever find another place to stay – no matter what Trey had told T.J. They were stuck here, in this whole, with no place to go. No future.

0o0o0o0o0o

Once again, Ryan was lulled out of sleep from pounding on the door. His eyes sought the time, which the VCR informed him was ten after two in the morning. Fucking assholes, Ryan thought.

"Do you guys have no fucking respect? I'm trynna fucking sleep here and you –"

The lights were bright. Bright enough to reflect on the guns aimed in his direction. Ryan's breath hitched.

"Don't move kid."

Ryan froze, squinting into the lights.

"Back up, slowly, and put your hands against the wall."

Ryan didn't move. Couldn't.

The cop reached out and pushed him against the wall, holding him there with a firm hand between his shoulder blades. "Spread your legs."

"What –"

"Spread your legs!" the officer barked again. His partner had moved inside now, and Ryan could see there were more cops outside.

He pressed his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes. They were all fucked.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Forgot the disclaimer last chapter. Shame on me, but in case you were wondering or thinking of suing, I don't own anything to do with the O.C. except the DVD sets, and sadly that's probably all I'll ever have.

Also, thanks to all the wonderful reviews. They really help keep me writing, and of course provide a little self-indulgence 

0o0o0o0o0o0o

"He's been here for how long?"

"We brought him in almost two hours ago now, but Sandy, I called as soon as I put it together. First I didn't know this was the kid – your kid."

"How many eleven years olds names Ryan Atwood can there be? And he's been in there for almost two hours, no parents, no lawyer, just your bullying? I thought I had friends in this department Rob."

Rob spread his hands out at the side. "Yell all you want Sandy, I just didn't know. We didn't find out the kid's name for at least thirty minutes. Between dealing with him and his brother at the hospital, trynna get a statement out of them or T.J., we've been a little busy."

"That's bullshit, Rob, and you know it. There is _no_ reason for an eleven year old to slip through the cracks like that! How do you think Ryan feels in there? No information on anything, poor kid doesn't know what's gonna happen to him or his brother, no wonder he isn't cooperating!"

Rob looked at the floor. "Listen, Sandy. I know how you feel. I got a twelve year old at home but…"

"But nothing. I want to see him. Now."

"Gerry's in with him right now. Just give him a few."

"You've had two hours to terrify and rile up this kid Rob. I want to see him now."

0o0o0o0o0o0o

"I told you before, I don't know anything."

"And how long did you say you've been staying there?"

"A couple days."

"A couple days?"

Ryan said nothing, just glared.

"Earlier you told us this was yours and your brother's first night there."

Shit. Ryan put his head in his palms.

"So how long have you really been there?"

"Where's my brother?"

"Listen, son. If you co-operate, we might be able to find out for you."

Bullshit. Such bullshit. "You don't know where he is?"

The officer shook his head, "No, we don't."

Ryan tilted his head, "Looks like I'm not the only one lying then."

They had to know. How could they lose someone, a person? His brother? All he wanted to know was if Trey was okay. If he was at the hospital or sitting in a room like him or anything. He wanted to know _anything_, but instead he knew nothing. He'd been in this room for what seemed like hours, with no word from anyone. He was tired, he was worried, and he wanted the fuck out of here. Away from these cops, away from the questions.

"Are you going to answer our questions?"

"I've answered them already!" Ryan snapped, closing his eyes and pressing his palms against them.

The click of a door opening and closing was all he heard, and Ryan knew he was alone in the office again. Alone to get lost in his thoughts and worries. He didn't know where Trey was, or anyone else. He didn't know what was going to happen to himself. Was he going to jail? Could an eleven year old go to jail? Juvie? Did he get a phonecall?

Not that it mattered. There was no one he could call. He'd thought of Sandy, but didn't know the number. The cops told him they'd been trying to get ahold of his mom, but with no luck. Every time he asked a question, they countered, and he was now so lost in his answers – his lies – he couldn't keep anything straight.

Ryan heard the sound of the door opening again. Back for more. They always were. He took a deep breath, "Where's my brother?"

"He's being held in the hospital in police custody. They're making sure the overdose hasn't permanently affected him."

Ryan snapped his head up. "Mr. Cohen?"

Sandy smiled, but it faltered, and suddenly Ryan felt sick to his stomach. He'd done that. Sandy was disappointed, and he was the cause of it. Salty saliva flooded his mouth and his stomach rolled; a five second warning.

He turned himself away from Sandy, leaning over his knees, and waited for it to come. He wasn't disappointed. The sound of it hitting the tile floor made Ryan squeeze his eyes closed, tears squeezing out the corners. His stomach churned and heaved again.

0o0o0o0o0o

Sandy entered the room quietly, his eyes focused on Ryan's small form. Head buried in his hands. The poor kid. He couldn't imagine what he'd been through the past two weeks. He'd scanned the reports, talked to the DA's office, talked to the police. Living with a drug dealer and car thief. According to reports, living in a small dirty house full of drugs and alcohol. And then there was Trey. Trey who he'd thought may take care of Ryan, but who was passed out inside the house. An overdose. How must Ryan feel to see his own brother overdose on drugs, and not be able to do anything about it? To get help or call someone for him.

"Where's my brother?"

Sandy's heart skipped a beat. All he'd been through and still worried about Trey. He answered the poor kid, telling him exactly what he knew, what Rob had told him. He tried smiling at him when his head shot up, but could feel it falter on his face. Could feel Ryan staring at him for a brief moment before turning away and emptying the contents of his stomach.

0o0o0o0o0o

Ryan could feel Sandy's hand rubbing his back, going in small gentle circles. The movement comforted him, pulled him away from what he'd done.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean –"

"Ryan. It's okay. Come on. I'll go get someone to clean it up, we'll move to a different room."

"I don't think I'm supposed to move."

"Hey. Kid. It's alright." Sandy fixed him with a look, setting his hand on the kid's shoulder and squeezing. "I've got this taken care of. Just come with me."

Ryan nodded, stood from his hunched form, and allowed Sandy to guide him from the room. Trey was okay. In the hospital, but okay. In police custody, but okay. He briefly wondered about his mom, but couldn't help wondering what would happen to him. Selling drugs and lying to the police. Would he go to jail?

0o0o0o0o0o

Kirsten nearly dropped the glass of wine when the shrill ringing of the phone echoed through the kitchen. Getting her breath back, she set down the wine and picked up the phone. "Hello?"

It was her dad. She sighed, cradling the phone against her ear with her shoulder and reaching for the glass with the other. "Hi dad."

"Kiki. When are you going to come back to work instead of slacking off at home with that unruly husband of yours?"

"I'm doing fine, dad. Thanks for asking."

"Don't be like that, Kiki."

"Don't tell me what to do, dad."

"Really, what is the matter with you? You've been moping around for weeks now? Has Sandy done something to you? I'm getting worried about you. You haven't been in the office for five days now."

"I'm working at home."

"It's just not like you."

"Dad. I'm fine. I'm just –"

"Well I expect you to be back tomorrow, we have a lot of work to do. This new development is going to fall behind if you aren't careful."

Kirsten let out a breath. She wanted to scream at him, tell him he was an ass, but the words wouldn't come. The wine promoted the anger, but the words still couldn't slip past. Just once, she wished, he would listen to what she had to say. Just once, she wished he would care about her instead of the business.

"Kiki?"

"Yeah dad?"

"Tomorrow morning. Don't be late."

Kirsten hung up the phone and finished her wine. For the first time in years, she began thinking about her and Sandy's plans to move up North and open a gallery. To live in the real world, struggling to pay the bills and raise Seth. Maybe now would be a good time to just leave? Forget her father, forget the Newport Group. Forget Ryan. Start new with her family, somewhere where she wasn't her father's daughter.

The phone beside her rang again. She couldn't leave. She picked it up, "Dad, I'll be in tomorrow. Sorry. I dropped the phone; it must have lost the connection."

"Kirsten?"

"Sandy? Sorry, I thought you were dad."

"I'm sure we're both happy I'm not."

Kirsten smiled. "What's going on Sandy?"

"I found him."

Kirsten paused. Him? "Ryan?" she asked.

"Yes. I found him. It's a long story, but I'm doing what I can to bring him home tonight."

"Bring him home? Where is he, Sandy? What's going on?"

"There's just been a bit of trouble with Trey and his mom, but I'm trying to figure it out."

"Trey's there too?"

"Well…Not exactly."

"Sandy?"

"He's in the hospital."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine. The doctors just want to keep him to make sure…there's no permanent damage…He overdosed Kirsten. On cocaine."

Kirsten closed her eyes, gripped the stem of her wine glass. "But he'll be okay? Where was Ryan? Is he okay, Sandy?"

"He'll be fine. Ryan was with him. They were living with this guy in Chino. One of Trey's friends or something. The police arrested this friend last night, and got a warrant to search his place early this morning. They found Ryan and Trey there."

"Thank god."

"Ryan's in…a bit of trouble."

"What do you mean?"

"The police think he was…selling from the house. They've interviewed a couple people, and on the condition they aren't charged with possession they gave a statement. They said it was a kid answering the door, supplying them. Ryan was the only kid around."

"Sandy…There's…There's no way he would do that. Ryan wouldn't…he couldn't –"

"Kirsten. I'm going to try and sort this out, I promise, but I have to go. I'm talking to the police, and the district attorney trying to get the two of them released into parental custody."

"But Dawn's in jail."

"No. She's not. Someone posted her bail and she's out, but the police can't find her."

Kirsten bit her lip, clutched the phone. "Ryan can't go to her Sandy. He just can't. You have to bring him home Sandy. Bring them home."

"I'm trying, honey. I just thought I'd call and give a head's up."

"Thanks Sandy. I needed it."

"I know, honey. I'll see you at home later."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Kirsten lay the phone beside her on the counter and eyes the glass of wine in her hands. She stood, suddenly, and dumped it down the sink then emptied the bottle. There was work to be done, she had to get the boys' rooms ready.

The boys. They were coming home.

She couldn't help but smile as she began pulling sheets from the linen closet. She couldn't wait to tell Seth about Ryan. Couldn't wait to see his reaction, his happiness, once again.

0o0o0o0o0o


End file.
